


Something Holy, Something Bloody and Something Unforgivable

by Silverlightning



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Canon Divergent, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, First Time Blow Jobs, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Precum, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, True Love, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-04-07 10:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14078955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverlightning/pseuds/Silverlightning
Summary: Sam had thought that demon blood would be the solution for everything. He would be able to save the world, but more importantly save his brother. So he gave into the longing for power and ended up losing the one thing that was more precious to him than life itself- his brothers love. Their relationship was spiraling fast down a dark and painful path until Castiel showed up at their motel with the 13-year old version of Sam without explanation. While the brothers tried to find a way to get the young Sam back to his own time they were forced to hide their catastrophic relationship to not alter reality by revealing too much about the future. But things were not as they seemed and the revelation of the truth and forbidden desires had devastating consequences for them.





	1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dean yelled, shaking his head furiously back and forth, disgust edged into the features of his thin face. 

“Dean, the only thing that was safe to eat from that place was the salad, believe me. I know you hate salad but it for sure beats food poisoning, don’t you think?” Sam's voice sounded eerily calm, almost like the quiet moment before a thunderstorm strikes. 

Dean sat in the driver's seat, one foot outside the car, almost as if he planned to make a run for it and grab the requested hamburger anyway. His eyes swept across the parking lot that was almost abandoned beside two pickup trucks which had seen better and cleaner days. The red “open” sign hanging on the inside of the glass door flickered now and again as if it was on its way to shut down entirely. Through the dirty windows Dean spotted a waitress, possibly in her early sixties but who could say for sure beneath all that eighties makeup, blue eyeshadow, and pink lipstick. Dean shuddered, everything about that place felt sticky and grimy. Reluctantly, Dean had to admit that Sam made the right choice by not buying anything that had actually been made at this place but a salad in a sealed plastic container, probably from the store.

Sam stood still with his arm stretched out as if beckoning Dean to accept the salad he held in his large hands. His face was neutral and didn’t convey any of the thoughts going through his mind. Somehow Dean’s irritation grew because of Sam’s calm demeanor. 

“Yeah, well, if you say so. But I am not surprised that you managed to direct us to the shittiest diner in a 20-mile radius. I mean, it's what you do, right? Fuck things up?” Dean sighed theatrically and grabbed the salad more roughly from Sam’s hands than necessary.

Dean watched Sam’s reaction out of the corners of his eyes, waiting to see the pain flicker by in the depths of those soft hazel eyes followed by the shining of unshed tears. But Dean was yet again disappointed as Sam just nodded as if in agreement and walked around the car to take his seat on the passenger side. Dean bit his lips in frustration, his knuckles around the steering wheel white and the salad abandoned on his lap. Once upon a time seeing pain emerge in those hazel eyes was the worst thing Dean could imagine and he would have done anything to make Sam smile again, to bring forth those dimples and the special glimmer in his eyes.

Nowadays seeing Sam in pain had become an outlet for Dean's feelings of frustration and betrayal. He figured that if he was constantly in pain it was more than fair that Sam was in pain too. He was the one who caused all of this in the first place. The last couple of days, however, Sam had changed, from teary-eyed with agony painted on his face to a stony expression that never changed no matter what Dean said or did. It drove Dean crazy and made him lash out more often just to provoke any reaction. 

Sam folded his body through the door and into the car seat, balancing his own salad and two cans of sodas in his hands without dropping anything. He placed the drinks in the two cup holders and tore the plastic lid of his salad open. He closed his eyes for one moment, relishing the rumble of the engine and the familiar smell of leather and gas. The Impala was the only physical place that was something like home. You would think four walls that you call your own wouldn’t mean so much but it was all Sam had left. The Impala held the memories of better days. Days when a hug from his brother was the only thing Sam needed. But that was a long time ago, before he had tasted demon blood and felt the power it gave him. Before he had tried to save his brother and save the world only to lose everything. The world still existed but Sam couldn’t care less. Nowadays his life consisted of an endless stream of pain, heartache, guilt, and self-hatred. As they drove on lonely roads, busy highways and through dusty villages Sam measured his days in insults directed at him and ice cold silences that stretched between the two front seats of the Impala, opening up a gap bigger than the grand canyon. Sam learned that how you feel doesn’t matter if there is no one who cares. 

Sam had known that things were bad between him and Dean but he thought that he would somehow be able to fix it. He sincerely believed that this hell he now called life would change as soon as he could explain everything to Dean. Explain how he had done these terrible things to save the world but more importantly to save his brother. Explain to Dean that he only had interpreted the things incorrectly that had been going on between Sam and Ruby. Demon blood, yes, but never any other physical contact, even though he never understood why Dean cared so much. Sam never got the chance to explain all these things because Dean never paused and listened long enough to actually understand. Still, Sam had held onto the childish hope that Dean would eventually forgive him, given enough time. 

Sam understood how wrong he had been a couple of days ago when he had gotten attacked by a vampire and Dean had left him in the abandoned warehouse that had been the vampire's nest. Left him bloody and almost unconscious on the dirty floor covered in vampire blood that slowly mixed up with Sam’s. He didn’t actually know how long he had stayed there before he had been able to drag himself up onto his knees and hands to finally crawl out of the building. He had to pause once in awhile because the pain from his stomach wound blackened his vision every three feet. When he finally had made it out, the Impala and Dean were gone; his own rental car abandoned on the grass where he had left it when they arrived. That was when he gave up. There was nothing left to fight for, no hope, no love and no affection. 

The tears he cried that night were hot and desperate. Sam had given into the agony that was about to swallow him whole, the gravel on the ground risping his cheek and the wind howling to accompany his cries. It had taken him hours to get back to the motel but Dean had never asked where he had been or if he was alright. 

Sam listened to Dean grunt and sigh with every fork of salad he ate. In another universe and another life, this melodramatic display would have been funny, almost adorable in its childish stubbornness. Now, however, every sigh reminded Sam of what he had lost and would never gain back. How odd it may seem that things got easier when he had lost all hope of ever winning his brother's love and friendship back. Before that, he had been on the brink of tears all the time, the insults raining down on him like poisonous spears. 

With the life they lived, he had experienced some pretty horrific and traumatizing things. However, he had learned the last couple of months that no monster in the shadows can ever hurt you like the person you love the most. The wounds inflicted on his soul were deep and painful, insult added to insult weighed him down like cobblestones. He was drowning and he understood that there was no rescue or salvation. 

Sam had become accustomed to being invisible to his brother. When the other wasn’t insulting him he was met with ice cold silences that could stretch for hours and miles. His questions remained unanswered as well as his demands for bathroom or food breaks. In reality, it wasn’t Sam who had directed them to the diner but Dean had refused to stop when Sam asked for it two hours ago. 

When they stopped at dusty old diners and gas stations Sam was startled when someone talked to him, almost believing that he had become invisible for real. Sam remembered that he had entertained the thought of being a ghost for a whole week before the Rugaru case came along and forced them to work together. It was heartbreaking when he had overheard Dean telling one of the cute female sheriffs in town that he didn’t have a brother anymore. Being Dean's brother had been such big part of his identity that he had no idea who he was if not Sammy, Dean’s little brother. Along with their friendship and love his nickname had disappeared as well, leaving him obsessed with its deafening absence. 

On lonely nights in shabby motel rooms, he listened to an old voicemail of Dean’s, the sound of his nickname tightening his chest, leaving him breathless and in pain. Before losing his brother, Sam had never formed the thought that Dean was indeed home to him. It was not a place, or a building or even a car but the smell of Dean's leather jacket, his tight embraces, and deep laughter. Home was counting Dean’s freckles when he felt anxious and afraid. Home was seeing Dean's eyes turn apple green when he was happy. Sam had lost his home and now he was struggling to hold on and find something to live for. The thought of escaping this life had crossed his mind repeatedly but he had pushed it back, not willing to give up so easily. 

As soon as Dean had finished his meal he sped out of the parking lot like a Wendigo was chasing him. Sam looked at the family sitting at the picnic table that had arrived a couple of minutes ago in the rearview mirror. They had made the decision to stay clear of the diner and ate sandwiches and fruit. From afar they looked happy, the two small boys chasing each other around the table. It was a serene image and almost too painful to look at. Sam guessed that once upon a time he and Dean had been that carefree as well. Maybe even happy despite the loss of their mother and their father's absence. Somehow they managed to be a family, he and Dean, supporting and loving each other despite all of the obstacles in their way. 

In hindsight, it may seem surprising that they even made it this far, alive and together. Dean turned the radio on and Metallica started to blast through the speakers so loud that it made Sam wince. He refrained from commenting on it, still lost in his thoughts about their relationship. Somehow he had the feeling that their days had been numbered since the beginning, the universe had certainly done everything to break them apart. Maybe their relationship had already existed on borrowed time until it finally was too fragile to stand its ground against another assault. A depressing thought but oddly comforting as well. If the odds had been against them from the start Sam didn’t have to carry all the blame by himself. 

Sam leaned against the cool glass window, becoming sleepier and sleepier with every mile. The scenery outside the window hadn’t changed much during the afternoon, it never did in these parts of the country. When his eyes finally fell shut his mind lingered on pleasant memories revolving around his brother. In Sam’s dreams, his big brother was still his most favorite hero of all times, protecting him from all evils in the world. In his dreams, Dean would never allow anything to happen to Sam let alone abandon him after a bloody fight with vampires. In Sam's dreams monsters were only bedtime stories and a figment of his imagination. 

Dean looked over at Sam, his eyes residing on the blue bags under Sam’s eyes and his nowadays pale skin. He looked exhausted but the haunted expression had disappeared and a small smile ghosted over his face. Dean realized that he hadn’t seen Sam smile in months and the thought caused a stream of hatred and guilt to wash over him. He shook his head to get rid of these thoughts but it was harder holding them at bay when Sam was asleep, reminding him of his brother’s younger years. Dean couldn’t count how many nights he had spent guarding the younger ones sleep: first Sam as a toddler, sound asleep and snoring on his chest, later the shared beds when Sam had become afraid of the monster under the bed and then again when Dean had been forced to tell him about real monsters. He remembered all the times he had looked at Sam sleeping, thankful that they both were alive and all the times he had listened to his brother’s calm breathing in a dark room, sometimes sharing a bed for companionship in a frightening world and sometimes because there was simply no money for two rooms. Now he always made sure they had money for two rooms, the thought of Sam’s sleep-heavy body next to him causing bile to rise in his throat. 

It was one thing to uphold his rage and anger when Sam was awake but almost impossible to hate him when he was asleep, so vulnerable and haunted that the only thing Dean wanted to do was hug him tightly. 

Lost in his thoughts he almost missed the narrow exit to the motel, swearing, he hit the breaks and made the turn just in time. Dean squinted at the blinking neon sign, offering low-cost rooms that could be rented hourly. Dean cursed under his breath that he hadn’t stopped for the night earlier but the road had always a tendency to trap him in his mind. Sam yawned and stretched which seemed like an adventurous endeavor giving his height and the narrow front seat. Somehow he managed to stretch and open the car door, looking almost endearing while doing it. Almost, Dean reminded himself harshly and killed the engine.

A few minutes later Dean shifted restlessly from one foot to the other while the man behind the reception desk slowly sifted through a box with dirty keys. His high pitched voice grated on Deans nerves and he shuddered every time the man in his fifties smiled, revealing yellow teeth with big gaps in between. Dean was used to shabby motels but this one seemed a bit too shady even for his taste. But it was too late to find another hotel now, they wouldn’t make it before nightfall and the thought of sleeping in the Impala next to his brother made him anxious. Whatever germs they might get in this place it was better than having to deal with Sam a whole night. Dean just couldn’t do it. So he accepted the pair of keys and left the dusty room as soon as the older man had counted the money Dean had put on the counter. Dean took a deep breath as he exited the motel reception, his eyes warily resting on his brother’s hunched shoulders and exhausted expression. He knew that Sam hated places like this and guilt swept through him once again, unnecessary guilt he reprimanded himself. Sam could sleep in a germ infested shithole as far as he cared. Or so he told himself repeatedly, bracing himself for accusing hazel eyes. 

Whichever accusations were on Sam’s mind he didn’t voice them or showed any other sign when he accepted the keys from Dean’s outstretched hands. Dean sighed and twitched a little as Sam’s fingertips brushed the palm of his hand when he took the keys. 

Sam nodded slowly when Dean told him that he expected him to be ready as soon as sunup. Sam had no idea why Dean was in such a hurry given that they weren’t working on a case right now but maybe the close proximity to Bobby had Dean itching to travel on. Or maybe just the fact that this place already, from the outside, seemed to be a total shithole. Sam, however, didn’t ask and just indicated that he would be ready at the outset time. Dean opened and closed his mouth a couple of times as if he wanted to say something but then he just turned around and left the parking lot in big strides. 

“Good night, big brother,” Sam whispered and let his eyes linger on Dean as the older one climbed the stairs to the second floor and opened the door to his room. With his gun drawn, he entered the room and after a while, the door closed with a thud. Sam rubbed his tired eyes and walked in slow steps towards his own room on the first floor. Long gone were the days when they shared a room or stayed in rooms next to each other. Sam guessed that even a wall between them wasn’t enough distance for his brother. The thought broke his heart and he clenched his teeth in an effort not to let the tears spill down his cheeks while he was still outside. His self-control faltered as soon as he closed the door behind him and sank to the floor sobbing. He didn’t even make sure the room was safe and he couldn’t care less. Being attacked by a monster seemed like a good solution to his problems right now.

Soon it became apparent that even the prayer for a short and surprising death wouldn’t be answered and Sam peeled himself off the floor. He grimaced in distaste when he noticed the dirty rug he had been sitting on. He gave the room a quick once over and decided that the safest course of action was to actually lay down on the bed directly on the comforter. The sheets underneath were greyish and grimy. It was easier to just fall down on the bed after kicking off his shoes and not bothering to take any of his clothes off. In a matter of hours they would be on the road again and hopefully would stop by Bobby’s where he could take a long and hot bath. 

Sam’s dreams were fitful this night and he tossed and turned restlessly without waking up completely. Somewhere he heard Dean yelling and the dark rumble of Castiel's voice. In his dreams, he had the feeling that something important was happening and he tried desperately to get closer to the familiar voices. But no matter how hard he struggled the voices eluded him, drifted away and came back in irregular intervals. Dean sounded upset and guilt made Sam’s chest ache. Had he done something to upset his brother even more? Why couldn’t he be a better brother? He would give anything to have the chance to get his brother back. Whimpers escaped Sam’s parted lips and he fisted the sheets, still imprisoned in his dreams. Sweat gathered on his forehead and the small of his back, his t-shirt clinging to his body. 

When the door to Sam's room got wrenched open he was startled awake and turned to face the door so fast that he almost fell off the other side of the bed. His heart pounded painfully even as he recognized the familiar form of his brother blocking the eerie light from the blinking motel sign. 

“Sam, my room. Now,” Dean barked, his voice reminding Sam of their father, aka the drill sergeant from hell, as he called him as a rebellious teenager. The thought made him snicker as he rolled out of bed and stifled a yawn. Sleep was still slowing his movements down, his hands rubbing his temples in the futile effort to chase away a headache that had nestled behind his eyes. Being startled awake always had that effect on him even though he should have been used to it given their lifestyle. 

The door to Dean’s room stood ajar and Sam rose his eyebrows at the lack of consideration for security. This didn’t seem much like his brother unless he really was upset or stressed. It had been too dark to see his brother’s face so Sam had no way of knowing in what mood the other was in and what had prompted him to wake Sam in the middle of the night. There were still a few hours till dawn. Light spilled out of the room, so bright as if Dean had turned on all the lights available in that shady motel room. 

Sam entered the room, about to ask about the abundance of light and the open door when he stopped in his tracks. His mouth turned dry immediately and a tremor ran through his body. His pulse spiked, sending adrenaline spiraling through his system. He felt dizzy and lightheaded, a static ringing in his ears made him flinch. 

“Sam,” Dean said warningly and Sam tried to shake his head to get rid of the vision in front of him. He pressed his eyes shut until bright spots appeared in the dark from his efforts. Sam sank his teeth into his trembling lower lip, trying to anchor him to reality. Maybe he had lost his mind after all? 

When he opened his eyes again the picture hadn’t changed. On the bed with the rustled sheets and comforter that had partially slipped to the floor sat a lithe boy with brown hair and bangs that kept falling into his eyes. Eyes that now stared at Sam with a mixture of curiosity and fear. 

“Dean,” Sam’s voice broke and he had to clear his throat in an attempt to keep the emotions at bay that threatened to sweep him away like a tidal wave.

“Do you see….is there...I mean…?” Sam couldn’t form the words to express the question in the forefront of his mind. Had he gone insane? 

Dean scoffed and pinched his nose. A gesture that Sam had seen a thousand times. Lips curved into a lopsided half-grin as if to say that he was tired of all the bullshit around him. For a minute the room fell into complete silence. Sam stared at Dean, his eyes lingering on the elegant bow of his lips and the freckles spread across his cheek. Starkisses, Sam recalled he had called them when he was little. Even now, when reality seemed to bend at the edges, counting those freckles grounded Sam and tethered him to earth. 

“Sorry to interrupt but holy shit. This is Sam? I mean me? holy shit!” 

Dean and Sam turned their heads simultaneously and Sam chuckled nervously at the outburst from the young boy on the bed. Sam didn’t remember himself being so scrawny but he recalled the desire to grow so that Dean would stop call him shrimp. The boy sitting on the rickety bed was Sam, the thirteen-year-old version of Sam when he still had been small for his age, with clumsy limbs and knees and elbows that seemed too big for his body. Sam was nauseous all of a sudden and he repeatedly swallowed and licked his lips to make the uncomfortable feeling go away. Of all the people he had to face after he had been addicted to demon blood, the shame had never been as strong as it was right now, looking at the younger version of himself. The version that still dreamt of a normal life together with his brother. Or as normal as their lives could get, all things considered. 

“What happened?” Sam finally asked, looking back and forth between his brother and young Sam. 

“Well, I have one word for you: Castiel. Our feathered friend dropped him...erm...you... off just saying we need to keep him...erm...you… safe for a couple of days. Before I could ask any questions that son of a bitch disappeared.” 

Sam finally entered the room and crouched down facing his younger self.

“Hi, Sammy, yes, it is me, I mean future you” Sam shook his head in embarrassment. This wasn’t going too well. Way to impress his younger self. 

The younger version of him tilted his head and smiled at him. There were no traces of fear or mistrust in the other's expression, only curiosity. 

“God, you are huge. Like hugeeeee,” Sammy dragged out the syllables to emphasize his enthusiasm at the discovery. Sam chuckled lightly, warmth filling his chest. He had forgotten how innocent he had been. The haunted expression had not yet reached his eyes at age 13 and he still believed that there would be the chance for a normal life filled with love with his brother. Oh, boy had he been wrong. 

Protectiveness swelled in his chest as Dean explained that Castiel had turned up at young Sam’s school and basically just grabbed him and transported him in time. At first, young Sammy had been terrified but he had calmed down once they had arrived at the motel and he had recognized Dean.  
“I mean, this is crazy, right? Your friend is an angel and I am huge. Can’t wait for this future to happen,” young Sammy babbled, overcoming his initial shyness around the older version of himself.

Sam gritted his teeth and bit the insides of his cheek to prevent himself from reacting to that comment. He wanted the younger Sam gone as soon as possible before he found out how Sam had fucked up their entire life and turned it into hell. 

“Yeah, friend, huh. A nice friend who kidnaps one's baby brother and transports him in time just to dump him off without any explanation. Ridiculous, I am gonna kick his ass the next time he sets foot-” 

Deans ranting got interrupted by young Sammy giggling. 

“You can’t kick an angel’s butt, can you?” Sammy’s eyes grew wide in astonishment when Dean just winked at him. 

Right now, Sam thanked every deity he could think off that Dean kept the facade and treated young Sammy friendly. Maybe his hatred didn’t expand to every version of Sam there is and Sam was grateful because he didn’t want Sammy to know about him and Dean. He was afraid of looking into those innocent eyes and needing to explain that they had lost everything. Sam swallowed visibly to get rid of the emotions welling up inside of him. He needed to get his shit together and more importantly, they needed to get to Bobby since Cas had gone radio silent. Having young Sammy here seemed dangerous, time travels came always with great risks of altering reality. Sam had not the faintest idea why Cas had done this but he for sure hoped that Cas had a good reason or Dean would tear him a new one. 

A thought let Sam pause his musings and he turned to face his brother.

“What about Dean?” He asked, his voice small and insecure. Talking to his brother had become like walking through a minefield these last couple of months. Sam hoped that young Sammy couldn’t tell that the smile plastered on his face was fake. 

“The angel said that he was informed, whatever that means,” Young Sammy answered, his brows knitted together in a frown. He undoubtedly thought about Dean's reaction to an angel appearing outside his door just to tell him that Sam was on vacation in the future for a couple of days. 

“Do you think he will be worried?” Sammy asked Dean, worry tinged his voice and erased his earlier enthusiasm. 

“Of course he will be worried, kiddo. BUT if Castiel has told the truth he also knows that there will be a big brother here who can protect you and who will do whatever it takes to get you back,” Dean reassured the younger version of Sam in a gentle voice. 

Goosebumps rose over the older Sam's body. He hadn’t heard that gentle and loving tone in Dean's voice in forever. He had missed it so much that jealousy darkened his thoughts for a couple of seconds. Sam couldn’t believe that he was jealous of himself. He really needed to get a grip before he lost his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for this chapter. There will be some suicidal thoughts in the last paragraphs. If you are uncomfortable with that please skip these.

Sam watched young Sammy devour a cheeseburger while bombarding Dean with questions about future books and movies. They were on their way to Bobby’s but had stopped halfway because young Sammy needed a bathroom and food break. Sam couldn’t help but feel bitter over how easy Dean agreed and stopped at a diner that actually looked good. The diner offered home cooked meals, a range of different healthy options like salads and vegetables and of course burgers. Sam had forgotten that he back then had shared the love of junk food with Dean. 

The interactions between young Sammy and Dean seemed somehow natural; it lacked the awkwardness that Sam felt around his younger self. The two chatted with each other like it was a regular Tuesday in October and not the day when they were at risk to fuck up their present and future by altering reality. 

Sam pushed his salad back and forth with his fork, trying to look like he was actually eating something. He hadn’t had an appetite since the fall-out with Dean and having his younger self here made him feel anxious, inadequate. Dean was still mostly ignoring Sam but he at least hadn’t said anything cold since young Sammy arrived. 

“Sammy, how about some dessert before we leave?” Dean asked and Sammy nodded enthusiastically. 

Sam’s chest tightened and he closed his eyes for a moment; it was a bittersweet feeling hearing his nickname. His soul ached because he knew that it wasn’t directed at him, not at his present self at least. But realistically he knew that he should enjoy the moment, as soon as young Sammy was gone he would never hear it again. Sam bit his lips hard to push down the desperate tears welling up in his eyes at the thought. 

Even though he intellectually knew that young Sammy was not another person only another version of himself Sam still felt like Dean was talking to someone else. Maybe it was just his mind’s way to make sense of something incomprehensible like time traveling. It was somehow easier to treat Sammy like he was a person in his own right and not just a past version of Sam. Sam could tell that Dean must have had the same thoughts because he didn’t treat young Sammy the same as Sam and yet their interactions were nothing like the way they had interacted with each other in their own time when Sam had been that age. Sam’s gut told him that it probably was easier for Dean as well to pretend that young Sammy was a different person, like a younger cousin. 

Dean stood up, ready to order some pie at the counter when young Sammy stopped him with a wave of his hand.

“You haven’t asked Sam what kind of dessert he wants?” Sammy remarked and looked quizzically at Dean. Sam prayed that Dean could think quick on his feet without giving anything away. Sam could barely breathe at the pain crashing through him, pain caused by an innocent question. 

“Ahm, yes, I haven’t, that's right. Sorry. Cut me some slack, having two of you here is distracting,” Dean chuckled and winked at younger Sammy. Sam noticed how easily Dean fixed the situation using his charm. A bright smile was all that it took to erase any questions that young Sammy might have had. It had always been that way. No matter how dire the circumstances Dean had always had the ability to reassure Sam.

“Sam, do you want anything for dessert?” Dean asked, his tone had lost the playfulness and he sounded neutral. Like he was talking to a stranger, which was an improvement after all.

For a split second their eyes met and instead of looking away Dean held Sam’s gaze for a short while. It couldn’t have lasted longer than three seconds but Sam felt like Dean's eyes burned holes in his soul. 

Sam just shook his head, he would not be able to eat anything anyway. 

Dean approached the counter and smiled at the waitress absentmindedly while he mulled over the fact that he hadn’t even noticed that he had ignored Sam. The thought made him feel hollow and exhausted. Like he was only a shell of his former self. Almost as if the love he had held for Sam had been his inner core, the very foundation of his being. When that loved drowned in hurt and betrayal Dean lost everything: his little brother, their precious relationship and the sense of who he was. He knew that he had turned into a bully, hurting Sam because he couldn’t get over the pain burning acidic through his soul. Every time he closed his eyes the image of Sam with blood dripping from his mouth while a half-naked Ruby rubbed her body over him assaulted his mind. The look of abandon and pleasure on Sam’s face had broken his heart. They had been lost in a world he had no access to, a world that offered Sam limitless power and pleasure. Dean had been so afraid that he would never be able to bring Sam back from that dark world. 

While the waitress put two pieces of cherry pie with whipped cream on a plate Dean remembered how the pure fear of Sam going dark had taken his breath away. But it wasn’t the fear of evil that had broken his heart but looking at Sam’s large hands on Ruby’s small body, the way their two bodies were entangled on the bed. Logically, Dean knew that he had no right to feel betrayed, he had no claim on Sam’s love beyond brotherly affection. Still, the feelings were there like a festering wound poisoning his soul and turning him into a person he hated. Dean couldn’t even look in the mirror without feeling guilty. The ironic fact was that Dean had never let himself acknowledge that his feelings for Sam were more than they should be. He had always seen their relationship as natural and normal, their deep affection and almost desperate love a normal development for siblings that grew up under harsh circumstances. However, sometime in the hours before dawn when he hadn’t been able to sleep he had turned in bed to watch his brother’s chest slowly rise and fall; he sometimes couldn’t push the thought away that his desire to protect, get closer, feel Sammy wasn’t as natural as he tried to convince himself. 

Dean had always been good at compartmentalizing which is why he had been able to push those thoughts to the back of his mind for years in order to be able to interact with Sam like any brother would. He had kept those feelings behind a thick wall of denial but when he had seen Sam with Ruby that wall had come crashing down on him, burying him alive. 

As he had watched them, Dean had realized that the hurt and agony he was feeling came from a dark place inside of his soul, a place where all his secret desires and feelings were held. It was those feelings that had made him furious, the pain unbearable at the realization that a filthy demon had more right to touch Sam than Dean ever would. 

All he wanted to do at that moment was kill that demon and punch Sam in the face hard. At the same time, he had wanted nothing more than wipe that blood from Sam’s face and kiss him, kiss him hard and claim his little brother with his tongue. But Dean had stayed in control and walked away, his feelings bubbling right under his skin. He had never loved and hated Sam more than in that precise moment when he had realized that he wanted to be everything to Sam: brother, friend, lover and soulmate. The desperate desires of a lunatic. 

Dean approached the table with a fake smile on his face. Having Castiel dump off a younger version of Sam with the words that they needed to protect him without destroying or altering reality by revealing too much of the future had him on edge. Dean knew that the most important thing was that young Sam wouldn’t notice how fucked up their relationship had become. Even if it wouldn’t destroy the world if young Sammy knew about them Dean would never be able to live with himself if young Sammy found out. 

Dean knew that young Sammy depended on the younger version of Dean in his own time, letting him find out that they had run their relationship into the ground was just not an option. There was no way he would be responsible for letting darkness and self-hatred into Sam’s life at the age of 13. It was paramount that young Sammy didn’t lose his trust in the stability and safety of their relationship. After all, they only had each other. 

Dean put the plates on the table and couldn’t help but feel warm because of the smile that young Sammy bestowed upon him. Dean watched Sam out of the corner of his eyes, who seemed uncomfortable and itching to get going. Dean understood that going to Bobby’s must seem like a safe haven to Sam, finally being able to hug the only person they had left that they considered family. Dean didn’t even know if he and Sam were family anymore or just some strangers bound together by guilt and regrets. 

Dean bit his lips in an effort not to display any of his thoughts openly on his face. Dean hadn’t counted on how well Sam knew him, the other immediately raised an eyebrow. An unspoken question: what’s going on?

Sam hadn’t interacted that much with him for weeks and Dean realized that the aching, black hole inside his soul was there because he missed his brother. Without thinking he attacked the cherry pie with his fork after sitting down, managing to put a rather large piece on his fork. He pushed the fork forward until it almost touched Sam’s lips. 

“Here, we can share,” Dean said, his heart thundering as Sam first paled and then flushed, hot red spots appearing on his high cheekbones. 

Eventually, Sam opened his mouth and closed his lips around the forkful of pie. Dean couldn’t help but stare at Sam’s tongue darting out to lick his lips. He knew that he shouldn’t be staring and that he was acting weird but he couldn’t avert his gaze. Dean felt warmth creep from the nape of his neck, heating his cheeks slowly. 

Luckily, young Sammy was unaware of the interplay between the brothers and just continued pressing Sam for the exact age when he would finally stop being scrawny and grow up to present Sam’s size. Sam answered his younger self distractedly, confused by Dean’s sudden friendliness and the weird look in his eyes. Sam hadn’t seen that look in a long time and he had no idea what it meant. The only thing he knew was that Dean’s sudden attention sent a thousand butterflies dancing in his stomach. Sam tried to quell the hopeful thoughts, knowing that this was all a show to not raise any suspicion in young Sammy. 

When they finally left the diner, Sam willingly gave up his shotgun seat to have some time for his thoughts in he relative privacy of the backseat. 

Music was blasting through the speakers and both young Sammy and Dean sang along to some rock classics. Sam closed his eyes and let the wind from the open window ruffle his hair and cool his frantic thoughts. 

He was dragged from contemplating the recent events when something hit him in the chest. Sam frowned and looked down just to see one of Dean’s cellphones now slowly sliding down his stomach. He caught it before it fell to the footwell and couldn’t help but shake his head. 

“Call Bobby and tell him that we are on our way to him. Maybe explain what happened? I don’t want to give the old man a heart attack when we arrive with Sammy.” Dean looked over his shoulder and again the brother’s eyes met, leaving Sam flustered for no apparent reason. 

“Yeah sure, good idea,” Sam replied, dialing Bobby's number that Dean always had on speed dial. 

The conversation with Bobby was laced with questions like “what the hell?” and “are you serious?” as well as a fair amount of “idjits” for good measure. During that conversation, Sam realized that they had acted like everything would be alright as long as Sammy didn’t learn anything about the future but Bobby explained that already by bringing Sam’s younger self here Castiel risked dire consequences. The whole thing just didn’t make any sense. Even if Sammy had been in danger in his timeline there would have been a hundred better and safer solutions than transporting him in time. Bobby pointed out the obvious holes in Castiel's explanation and Sam felt bad for being gullible and just buying Castiel's explanations and orders. It was very telling how neither he nor Dean had questioned the angel further or even tried to contact him after the first few times. Their bad relationship was affecting their hunter's skills and they both knew it. It wasn’t the first lapse in judgment they have had since they were not working as a team any longer.

When they finally arrived at Bobby’s house they could see him pale visibly when young Sammy left the car. For someone who had fought countless monsters, Bobby looked like he was going to bolt and lock the door behind him. But he stayed put and only relaxed when Sam embraced him in one of his signature bone-crushing hugs.

“What have you boys done this time?” Bobby asked teasingly when Dean patted him roughly on the back.

“This time it isn’t actually our fault. Save the lecture for our feathered friend.” Dean shook his head and indicated young Sammy to follow him. Young Sammy walked passed Bobby with big eyes and a fearful expression until Bobby reached down and ruffled Sammy’s hair. 

“Well, welcome in the future, Sammy,” Bobby said and ushered them all inside. 

The house was as dusty and chaotic as it always had been with car parts stacked in the hallway and dishes occupying almost every counter in the kitchen. 

Sam smiled as the familiar smells of dust, car oil, and canned food invaded his nostrils. He had always felt safe at Bobby’s and he could tell that the familiar surroundings helped young Sammy relax. The house looked exactly the way it had done when Sam had been 13, which must be a great relief for Sammy to finally be in a place he was able to recognize. 

“Since we have young Sammy saying with us it will be more cramped than usual,” Bobby said, turning his gaze to Sammy. “Sammy, since you are not that big, you can take the sofa.” He looked over at Dean and Sam, and said, “You two can share you old room since it has two beds.

Bobby pointed to the rickety sofa that had blankets and a pillow already placed on the edge of it. 

“It’s ok, I can take the sofa,” Sam offered, knowing that there was no way in hell Dean would spend the night in the same room with him. 

“Bullshit. You have to fold yourself in half to fit on that thing.” Bobby just shook his head and when Dean opened his mouth to protest he gave him a warning glance. The warning reached Dean and he closed his mouth, looking like a kid that was told he had to go to the dentist. 

The dull ache that had been temporarily eased by Dean’s actions in the diner returned full force. Sam scolded himself for letting his guard down only because Dean put on a show for young Sammy. Nothing between them had changed and it never would. 

Sam went out to get his duffle back from the trunk and breathed some fresh and cold October air. He opened the trunk and looked for a moment at all the weapons stored there. He let his fingertips glide over the cold metal of a sharp blade, reminding himself that those weapons were a reassurance. Reassurance that he had a way out of this hell if he wanted to, that he could leave this world and his hateful brother behind. 

Sam swallowed thickly as his pulse quickened in anticipation. He imagined the relief it would bring him to finally give into the darkness consuming his soul and just escape the pain. Sam shook himself out of the revery he was in and closed the trunk. He knew that he had a long night ahead of himself. Sam had no idea what Dean would do or say when he finally caught him alone and he wasn’t eager to find out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please head the tags

When Sam entered their shared room Dean was sitting on the bed, the blanket covering him up to his chest, only revealing a white t-shirt. He was casually flipping through a car magazine. Sam slowly walked over to his own bed, expecting to be thrown out of the room any minute. He had already thought about that possibility and came to the conclusion that he would be able to sneak out to the car without getting detected by Sammy. Thankfully, the autumn nights were not too cold yet to sleep in the car. But Dean didn’t even acknowledge his presence in the room. Sam paused before he sat down on the bed with his favorite blanket. He had slept with that blanket since he had been a small child. The blanket held the memories of better days were he had spent hours cuddling close to Dean, talking and laughing until Bobby had told them to finally shut up and go to sleep. 

Sam let his fingertips glide over the woolen blanket, feeling its familiar pattern. Sam looked up and let his eyes rest on Dean for a moment who seemed concentrated on some article on cars. He frowned slightly as if he disagreed with the article. Sam shook himself out of his trance, looking too long at his brother was dangerous. If he were caught he could easily get his ass kicked. 

”I am going to take a bath,” Sam said into the silence, not expecting to get an answer. Somehow he said it more to the memory of his brother lingering on every item in the familiar room than to the actual person sitting on the other bed. Sometimes when the silence got too painful he imagined what Dean would answer if everything were normal. These imaginative conversations could go on for hours and became a dangerous substitute to the real thing. That's why Sam had forbidden himself to go there in his mind, even if it provided some comfort. If he wasn’t cautious he would lose his mind sooner or later. 

Sinking down into the hot water smelling of roses was a blessing for Sam’s aching muscles. He relaxed his shoulders and tried to avoid thinking about anything. Instead he concentrated on the sensation of water on his skin, how the air meeting his exposed skin created goosebumps all over his body. The bubbles tickled his skin when they floated by. Somehow he couldn’t believe that Bobby actually had rose scented bubble bath in his bathroom. Sam suspected that one of Bobby's lady friends had left it a long time ago. Or maybe Bobby just liked to indulge himself. Sam chuckled as he imagined the scene. 

When he left the bath one hour had gone by and he felt more relaxed and definitely cleaner than he had had in a while. He cursed under his breath upon realizing that he had grabbed a towel when he went into the bathroom but not his clothes. So he had no choice but to wrap the towel around his waist and go back like this. The hallway outside the bathroom was dark and quiet. The sounds of the tv from downstairs had stopped, probably because both Sammy and Bobby had already gone to bed. The hallway was somewhat chilly and Sam hurried to get back into their room. He anticipated that Dean would be asleep already but the light was still on as he entered the room. 

Dean had put the car magazine down as he felt his eyes grow heavier and heavier. He was just about to turn the lights off when Sam entered the room. The sleepy drowsiness disappeared as his body reacted strongly to the sight that was greeting him. 

His mouth went dry and he swallowed repeatedly, willing his body to stay calm. His heart raced and he licked his lips as his eyes lingered on naked, wet skin, well formed muscles and pink, hard nipples. Dean spotted goosebumps on Sam’s skin, waking up the desire to warm his brother’s cold skin. He needed all his willpower to not get up and crash his mouth on those pink nubs begging to be sucked and bitten. In reality Dean had no idea if Sam was sensitive there and if the action would cause him to moan in pleasure as the images in his head wanted him to believe. Dean pulled his legs up and made sure he was completely covered in his blanket to hide his body’s reaction to his little brother. He was pretty sure there was a place in Hell especially reserved for him. 

Sam shivered as he entered the room and walked over to the bed. He noted that Dean seemed to shift uncomfortably on the bed and looked at him with strange eyes. Was the other really so bothered by being in the same room with him? The thought of so much hatred made Sam’s stomach churn. He let his hair fall into his face like a curtain to hide his eyes. He swiftly pulled a shirt over his body. Unfortunately the shirt only covered half of his ass but he had no choice to let the towel glide down to but his boxers on thereby presenting his naked backside to his brother. Sam’s cheeks heated in embarrassment but deep down there was a part of him that wanted Dean to see. Wanted Dean to look at him, eyes gliding over his whole body like gentle caresses. Sam bit his lips hard to get his mind to focus on something else than his naked ass and Dean's eyes residing on it in his imagination. He was pretty sure that his brother was already facing the wall, ready to go to sleep. 

When Sam finally crept under the covers he saw that he had been right with his assessment. Dean laid with his back to Sam, completely covered with his blanket. Sam killed the lights and stretched out his arm like he had done so many times when he had been younger. The beds were so close that he could almost touch Dean’s back. 

In their younger years they sometimes spent the hours before sleeping with their fingers entwined, their arms breaching the distance between them. It had been comforting and loving. Sam’s fingers were only centimeters from Dean but yet so far apart. 

For a moment Sam indulged in the memory of what it would feel like to touch Dean’s firm back and feel his warmth. The ghost of a touch. Silent tears stained the pillow underneath him. He closed his eyes and whispered ”good night” in a broken voice. 

”Good night.” Dean paused, heart thundering in his chest. ”Good night, Sammy,” he whispered almost inaudible. 

”Dean…” Sam sounded forlorn and broken. Dean was aware that he had as big a part in fucking up their relationship as his brother did. The guilt was suffocating and he had no idea how to handle all the emotions inside of him. It was just easier to be angry and feel betrayed. He simply saw no way out of this bottomless pit of hurt and pain. 

”Just shut up and go to sleep,” he ordered, but his voice lacked venom. Instead he sounded exhausted. 

Sam woke up from the smell of bacon and the clanging of pans and cutlery. The faint sound of voices and laugher drifted through the only partially closed door. Sam yawned and decided to leave the bed and get some breakfast. His stomach rumbled and he hurried to put some jeans on. Dean was still asleep, his face mushed into the pillows. The blanket was a tangled mess at the foot end of the bed. Dean's shirt had ridden upwards, revealing a sliver of tanned skin. Sam averted his eyes after a couple of seconds feeling bad that he used his brother's sleeping vulnerability to stare at him. 

Feeling bad for lusting over his brother had become second nature to him. He had lived with that secret for so many years, he didn't even know what is was like to not be ashamed of his own thoughts. Somehow he wasn't surprised when Azazel revealed that he was tainted, a soul meant to be dark. When it started, he wasn’t able to put his feelings into words and later when he recognized them for what they were he just knew that they were wrong. That he was wrong, sinful, and disgusting. He had spent most of his teenage years angsting over the possibility that Dean would find out and hate him forever. 

In the twisted irony of the universe, in the end his sinful desires were not what had cost him his brother. 

The image that Sam encountered in the kitchen was peaceful and homely. Bobby was frying bacon and making scrambled eggs while Sammy ate cereal, humming along to the old radio that played an 80s song. 

”Good morning, sleepyhead. Was about time you came down for breakfast,” Bobby said while flipping some slices of bacon. Sammy gave him a small wave and a smile which he returned before he grabbed a bowl for himself. Sammy passed the cereal, grinning knowingly. Sam had never been able to stomach a hearty breakfast with eggs and bacon. Cereal was about as much as he could eat without feeling ill in the morning. 

”Where is Dean at?” Sammy inquired while looking around the kitchen like Dean would materialize any minute. 

”Still sleeping, didn’t want to wake him.” Sam replied while he watched Bobby loading a plate with food for three grown men. Sam’s stomach lurched at the sight. 

”I did some research last night, Sam. We really need to talk and more importantly we must find a way to contact Castiel.” Bobby chewed violently while explaining what he had found out about time travel. Apparently, there was not much to go on, since time travel rarely was attempted even by witches and angels. There were only a few documented cases and unfortunately not one of them had ended well. 

Sam sighed and put his spoon down. Bad news wasn’t really a way to enhance his appetite. Young Sammy didn’t seem as bothered though and continued eating. Sam watched his younger self in astonishment. How could he be so calm? After all it was young Sammy that had been dragged from his time, dumped in the future with an evasive explanation by a creature he didn’t even know existed. What was wrong with past Sammy? 

”That doesn’t sound good. I will get started on some research too, gonna surf the net and see if there is some modern lore. Also, I have a feeling we should check out the science of it all.” 

Sam wiped his mouth with a napkin and was about to leave the table when Sammy stopped him by grabbing his arm.

”Don’t be that worried, I am sure we will fix this. Dean promised and he always keeps his promises, right? He wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I don’t know this Castiel but he is an angel and that must mean that he has a plan and a good reason.” 

Two pairs of hazel eyes connected. One pair innocent, trusting and slightly curious and the other jaded, exhausted, and hopeless. The same eyes with a lifetime of hurt and regret spanning between them. 

At least partly, young Sammy was right, Sam mused. Dean always kept his promises but unfortunately the second part wasn’t true. Not anymore at least. He had no idea how to respond to Sammy without letting any of his emotions show. All of a sudden the room felt too warm and all the different smells made him dizzy. Sam couldn’t breathe properly, his heart hammering in his chest. It took all his willpower not to turn around and run away. Away from Sammy’s questioning eyes and from Dean’s broken voice calling him Sammy in the dark, stirring up hope that was nothing but an illusion. 

”Sam, earth to Sam,” Bobby called out to him but Sam couldn’t drag his eyes away from the younger, yet untainted version of himself. He couldn’t really remember when the feelings for Dean started but at least at the age of 13 he had not known what they were yet. 

Bobby and Sammy exchanged worried glances but Sam couldn’t bring his muscles to obey and make his brain come up with a good answer. He just felt so hopeless and empty. Even if they did manage to get young Sammy back to his own time without causing an apocalypse it would still mean that the hell he called life would resume after Sammy was gone. Sam knew in his bones that he wouldn't be able to stand it. Not anymore. He had no fight or hope left. Being confronted with his innocent younger self made him realize that he was out of options. 

Dean walked into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He had woken when Sam left the room. Despite everything that happened, Dean could still feel his brother's presence most of the time. A knowledge deep in his bones that Sam wasn’t in his close proximity anymore. In the past, not being close to Sammy had made him anxious, his protective side demanding to keep an eye on his little brother at all times. The smell of bacon had at least caught his attention and he decided that he better head down before Bobby devoured everything edible by himself. 

The second Dean entered the room he could tell that something was off. Sam was staring at the younger version of himself, his eyes glazed over. He was almost panting and young Sammy looked unsure and uncomfortable. Dean heard Bobby say Sam’s name to get his attention but his brother didn’t move or react in any way. It looked like he was lost in his own world, almost mimicking the way he had looked when he was drinking demon blood. The sight sent chills down Dean’s spine and caused his hands to tremble. All logic was swept away by the need to get his brother to leave that eerie state and interact with them normally again. 

Dean stepped closer and put his hand on the small of Sam’s back. His t-shirt was thin and soaked in cold sweat. Dean felt Sam’s body tremble beneath his hand. 

”Come on, Sam. I need to talk to you for a minute,” he murmured near Sam’s ear. At first he didn’t get a response but that changed when he rubbed his hand over Sam’s back. Sam turned his head, wide surprised eyes meeting Dean’s anxious ones. 

”What...what is going on?” Sam sounded small and forlorn, causing the desire to embrace him to well up in Dean. Dean had to remind himself that Sam had betrayed his trust, their relationship, and love. 

”You just zoned out a bit. It’s ok, I get that you are tired. I thought we could try to contact Cas again. Maybe we’ll be lucky this time.” 

Dean guided Sam out of the room, his hand on Sam’s back steering his younger brother firmly. Dean nodded to Bobby in hopes that the other would understand and come up with a good explanation for young Sammy as to why Sam had been spacing out the way he did. When they left the house Sam sank down onto the steps on the porch, his breath still ragged and his shoulders shaking. Tears glistened in Sam’s dark, long lashes. 

Dean had treated Sam like a traitor, a piece of shit since the night in that hotel room despite the fact that Sam had stopped drinking demon blood immediately and tried to explain why he had acted the way he did. Dean had deliberately ignored every explanation and plea for forgiveness. He had also ignored the signs of Sam’s mental health deteriorating. Dean had nursed his own anger and hatred, ignoring that Sam wasn’t eating or talking anymore and looked exhausted all of the time. He had tried to ignore how Sam’s eyes lingered on their weapons far too intense and longing sometimes. 

Dean had been aware that Sam tried to fight for them for months but he wasn’t budging in his coldness. When they took out the vampire's nest he had let Sam assume that he had left him to die, which was far from the truth. He had stayed in the shadows, checking Sam’s wounds when he was passed out to make sure he would be ok. He had lost some blood but the wounds were superficial. Somehow Dean wanted to hurt Sam as badly as he had been hurt by his brother’s actions. Which is why he had stayed in the shadows, listening to the other’s hopeless cries and acted like he couldn’t care less when Sam finally got back to the motel. 

But the sweet relief revenge ordinarily brings had never come for Dean, instead he had felt worse for treating Sam like that. In the end, he could barely stand to talk to Sam because of the guilt he felt. 

Dean had no idea how they could get back from the dark place they were in, how he could approach the brother he loved so intensely but who had brought so much hurt to them through his quest for power. In the end, he crouched down before Sam, cupping his cheeks for a short moment. His thumbs gathered some tears, tenderly stroking them from his brother’s pale skin.

”You need to get your shit together, Sam. Sammy is already suspicious, you were acting really weird in there,” Dean scolded softly. 

”I just don’t know what to do, Dean. I just want it to end, I am too exhausted. Can’t do it anymore,” Sam whispered in a broken voice. 

Dean retracted his hand from Sam’s cheeks and squeezed the younger ones hand instead. 

“I know it's difficult being confronted with the past version of you, forcing us to act like nothing's wrong. However, I am sure that we will find a way to get Sammy back to his own time soon.” Dean tried to sound reassuring and confident. In reality, he had not the faintest idea how they could send Sammy back if they couldn’t get in touch with Castiel. 

“I was not talking about Sammy.” Sam sighed and left the porch steps he was sitting on and walked past Dean who gaped at him with furrowed brows. 

Before his brother could come up with any questions Sam hurried past the car wrecks and junk metal to reach the dusty road. He would go for a walk to clear his head so that he didn't need to look at his brother or the younger version of himself. Even looking at Bobby hurt because he knew how disappointed the other would be in him for simply giving up. Sam wished that he were able to talk to Bobby about his feelings but he had no idea how to convey how devastating it had been to lose Dean without revealing the true and intense nature of his love.

For months, Sam had pushed the alluring thoughts about simply giving up to the back of his mind. He had ignored the silent whispers during long nights that the pain would finally stop if he just let go. His upbringing and own belief system had him reject the idea over and over again, arguing with himself. Every time Dean hurt him it was only confirmation for the part inside of him that couldn’t bear it anymore, the part that wanted to give into the darkness inside of him. The constant battle with his own thoughts and sinful desires had him exhausted and on edge. One minute the thoughts racing through his mind had him almost convinced to lean over and kiss his brother senseless and the next he yearned for demon blood and the freedom unlimited power brings. Sam hardly slept more than an hour at a time before the pain and hopelessness of his situation woke him up again. 

Last night he had slept more in one night than the past weeks combined. The close proximity to Dean, hearing his brother’s regular breathing and being enveloped by familiar smells he had been able to succumb to a dreamless sleep. Sam had lost all hope and he was afraid of giving into the illusion that his brother created with touches and words just to avoid letting young Sammy find out how bad things really were. On one hand it was so tempting to buy into Dean’s charade, to cherish every touch and word directed at him. But deep inside his bones Sam knew that he wouldn’t be able to lose his brother all over again as soon as Sammy was gone and everything went back to normal. 

At some point this morning while staring at his younger self so convinced that Dean would fix everything, so firmly believing in a happy ending despite everything Sam realized that he not only had lost his brother but also the person who he had once been. In that moment he just knew that he couldn’t stand the pain anymore. It felt like he was losing his mind. 

Dean watched his younger brother walk in long strides towards the old road leading into town. Dean’s mouth was dry and his hands sweaty. He tried to compress the trembling that seemed to originate in his inner core, deep in his bones. Hearing his brother talk so casually about ending his own life sent chills down his spine. Sure, Dean had known that Sam was in a bad place but he never thought it was that bad. 

Dean knew that he was the only one who could fix this and probably save Sam but he had no idea how. He felt guilty and inadequate; they had inflicted so much pain on each other that it was difficult to see the light at the end of this very dark and very long tunnel. To make matters worse, they had young Sammy to protect as well as keeping reality from breaking apart because of the time travel. Dean just shook his head and wished for once that he could be be an ordinary man with ordinary problems. 

”Castiel! Castiel!! Get your ass down here! You made this mess so come back and unfuck things ASAP,” Dean yelled at the blue sky and squinted against the light. After his outburst the yard fell back into silence, white clouds drifting by slowly and the wind ruffling his hair. He waited a couple of minutes, just in case Cas decided to show up or Sam returned. But neither the rogue angel nor his sad brother appeared so Dean decided to go back inside, his shoulders hunched in defeat. 

Millions of lightyears away and yet as close as the blink of an eye Castiel watched the scene between the two brothers unfold. His hands were buried deep in the pockets of his beige trenchcoat, balled into fists. His facial expression however didn’t convey any of that. His features appeared calm, almost cold. 

”Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?” A voice asked from the shadows. At first Castiel didn’t react to the question but after a while he nodded.

”It is the only way. We have no other choice.” His deep voice sounded firm and determined. Neither his tone nor his gestures revealed what his feelings were regarding his plan and the brothers’ pain. Only someone who knew him very well would be able to detect his emotions under layers and layers of determination. 

The voice in the shadows didn’t know him well enough, so there was a stretch of silence before the voice answered in confirmation.


	4. Chapter 4

Lunchtime came and went, bleeding slowly into afternoon. Dean sat with a stack of books and watched the sun travel its destined path across the sky while anxiety made him jumpy and nervous. Sam had disappeared after their conversation on the porch, leaving Dean in a state of helplessness. 

Dean had called Sam a couple of times but his cell was switched off. Instead of the familiar warm rumble of his brother’s voice greeting him, a cold automated voice told him that the number he called couldn’t be reached at the moment. That was a pretty good description of their relationship, Dean mused. He had no idea how to reach Sam through all the hurt, guilt, and regret that filled the gap between them. 

Bobby had taken young Sammy with him to work on some car after Dean had snapped at Sammy because he just wouldn’t shut up and fired a hundred question per minute at him. Questions he had no answers to or others he did not want to answer. Either way, it had him on edge and finally his irritation had gotten the best of him.

Of course he had felt like a piece of shit directly after it happened. Sammy had watched him with big, scared eyes already on the brink of tears. It had reminded him how innocent Sam had been at one point in time and how flawless their relationship. Growing up, he had worked hard to never raise his voice in front of Sam to make up for his father’s often scary demeanor. At age 13 there had been only a few times when Dean had been really angry with Sam, mostly because Sam had managed to scare the hell out of him by disappearing or getting himself into unnecessary danger. The hurt in young Sammy’s eyes when he had yelled at him just because he had asked a question was devastating. It painted a clear picture what had become of their relationship. 

All afternoon Dean tried to read the books Bobby had given him to find a solution to their time travel problem but his mind got pulled back to snippets of memories, all of them showing himself at his lowest, hurting Sam with cold and mean words and gestures. The thing that frightened him most was how Sam had slowly begun to accept that their relationship was like that, that Dean would inevitably hurt him. Dean buried his face in his hands and slowly rubbed his eyes, pretending the sting behind them was exhaustion not tears. 

He had no right to cry and feel sorry for himself when he had done so many spiteful things to hurt his brother. He didn’t even have a good reason because his hatred had been born out of jealousy. Dean had forgiven Sam for taking things into his own hands and trying to save the world using demon blood a long time ago. What had festered in his soul, dark and painful, was the disgust he had felt when he witnessed Sam being sexually involved with a demon, a filthy creature. 

Dean counted the minutes, getting more restless when the sun finally sank behind the horizon, spreading its red and orange light turning the dirty yard littered with car parts into an otherworldly place. 

Dean couldn’t stand it anymore and went outside to search for his brother. He was driven by the fear that Sam was alone somewhere about to hurt himself but also by the desire to talk to his brother. He yearned to lay everything out in the open even though he knew that he couldn’t, that he wouldn’t have the courage to admit to his deepest and most sinful desires. 

Dean crossed the yard and closed his eyes for a moment thinking about which way to turn. Sam had gone into town but his gut told him that Sam wouldn’t camp out in some random café this long. He had become far too introverted and people shy as of late. So instead he followed the feeling deep in his bones and turned right towards the forest that every year reclaimed part of Bobby's property. 

The light changed when he entered the forest, the world became instantly darker. It smelled earthy and rich. The sounds coming from Bobby’s garage where Bobby was still working with young Sammy got lost between the thick trunks and Dean walked until he heard nothing but the rustling of leaves and birds chirping. When they were kids they had loved to play in the forest and it still felt welcoming, intimate somehow. He hoped that he guessed right and Sam remembered their old refuge from the world. 

Sam had always fled to the woods wherever they were staying. If there was trouble with dad he would always find Sam in the nearest forest, sitting with his back to a tree gazing at the light filtering through green leaves. This place however was special because after one especially violent incident involving their dad Dean had built a small shelter for Sam. He had dried the tears streaming down his brother’s dirty cheeks, kissed his forehead and found a way to make him smile again. The shelter itself wasn’t anything special, just branches from the trees tied together to build a makeshift cabin. Later, they filled it with blankets and other nick-nacks, making it a place Sam loved to come back to. Neither Bobby nor their Dad had ever learned that it existed; it was their secret, a place all of their own where nobody could hurt them and they could just be together in peace. 

Dean hadn’t been there in years but his feet remembered the hidden path. The temperature dropped as Dean wandered farther and farther away from Bobby’s house and he was glad that he had grabbed a jacket before heading out. He sighed in relief when he finally spotted the small ”cabin”. It was still there but Dean noticed that the forest had tried to regain some of its property. The branches were now covered in green moss, giving the small shelter the appearance of having a roof. Dean paused a couple of steps away, unsure of how to proceed. The desire to find his brother battled with the guilt and his insecurities. This place had been sacred to them and he felt that had lost the right to enter it. 

He made up his mind when he heard sniffling and labored breathing from the inside. His heart throbbed painfully as he realized that his brother was alone in the woods crying desperately. He walked the few steps towards the entrance and crouched down to look inside. The sight that greeted him froze his blood to ice. His brother was lying on the cold floor, his knees pulled to his chest. Sam rocked slowly back and forth while he whimpered and sobbed. It seemed like Sam’s whole body was trembling. At first, Dean couldn’t see if his brother was just cold or if he had hurt himself. Dean gave the surroundings a quick once over and sighed relieved when he could not see any blood or other signs that would indicate that Sam had hurt himself. 

Sam took up almost all of the space inside the shelter despite his huddled position. Dean crawled slowly inside, trying to avoid setting his hands on their old keepsakes littering the ground. Once upon a time they had been kept on a small shelf but Dean couldn’t tell if the wind had knocked them to the ground or if Sam had anything to do with that. 

”Sam, it's me,” Dean whispered, his throat constricting around the words. His brother didn’t answer or give any sign that he had heard him. Sam just kept rocking back and forth, tears streaming down his cheeks and his eyes closed. 

Dean pushed away all the thoughts that tried to invade his mind and concentrated on his brother. The small space made it almost impossible for him to move but Dean crawled closer until he could lower himself to his side, mimicking Sam’s position, his chest pressed against Sam’s shaking back. Dean took a deep breath before he embraced his trembling brother and rested his head on Sam’s shoulder. Sam didn’t react to the physical contact so Dean put his mouth on the shell of Sam’s ear.

”Please, Sammy, baby boy come back to me. Please,” Dean whispered and gave finally in to his own grief and sorrow and let his tears flow freely. They had lost everything and he had no idea if he was strong enough to repair the damage that had been done to their relationship. 

Sam heard Dean whisper sweet words in his ear and marveled at the power of his own imagination. He was pretty sure he had finally lost his mind and experienced some form of delusion that his mind created to soothe him. He was not strong enough to resist it so he relaxed into the embrace that he imagined, holding tightly onto his brother’s fingers intertwined with his own. Slowly, the numbness that had taken over his mind and body left him and he began to shiver in the cold afternoon air. He had only put a simple shirt on this morning and left the house in a hurry after his freak-out in the kitchen. The cold created goosebumps on his skin, the only source of warmth came from the body behind him. Sam opened his eyes startled by the fact that he could feel his brother’s breath ghosting over his neck and Dean’s fingers caressing the palm of his hand in slow circles. 

Either his mental state was way worse than he could even imagine or Dean was really with him in their shelter, holding him tightly and murmuring soothing words in his hair. The goosebumps spreading all over his skin now had a totally different origin and Sam contemplated closing his eyes again and pretended to be gone still. What if Dean would leave as soon as he realized that Sam knew he was there? 

Sam hadn’t counted on the fact that years of hunting had made his brother incredibly observant to even the smallest changes in any given situation.

”Welcome back, Sammy. You better now?” Dean sounded groggy, his voice held a myriad of emotions. Sam turned around finally and met green eyes staring intently at him. His brother was so close that Sam could smell the coffee on the other’s breath and feel the air leave his brother’s slightly parted lips.

Sam nodded and worried his lips, sure that his voice wouldn’t bear after he had cried for hours, but he had no idea what to say anyways; his brother’s closeness distracted his frantic thoughts. The thoughts attacked his mind like a hurricane, he wasn’t able to decipher any of it. It was a jumbled chaos of fear, longing, snippets of memories, and everywhere was Dean. Dean’s presence inside his mind was almost as strong as his brother’s physical presence, a warm body pressed against him. Sam felt the outline of Dean’s body, sharp angles and muscles but also soft hands and tender fingertips resting on the back of his neck. Sam had no idea why his brother was here, hugging him like they hadn’t done for years. 

Only a couple of days ago the other couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as him and now Dean's hand caressed his back. Sam felt the warmth of Dean’s hand through the thin fabric of his shirt, his touches were gentle but determined at the same time. 

”You are freezing, baby boy,” Dean stated and pulled Sam even closer. 

Sam’s mind was reeling, he had a hard time wrapping his mind around what was happening. How could the other be so impossibly warm? How could Dean be so close and call him baby boy, he hadn’t done that since Sam had been a young boy. Sam was almost ready to believe that he was trapped in a delusion after all when thunder shook the ground. Sam gasped in shock at the sudden sound and the static filling the air. Lightning followed only seconds later, sending adrenaline through Sam’s body. The wind that had been a gentle breeze all afternoon picked up speed and rattled at the branches. The change came so sudden that it convinced Sam that he was indeed experiencing this. The wind howled in the trees, shaking their small cabin. 

”We need to get out of here,” Dean yelled and pushed Sam away from his body. The sudden loss of warmth and contact made Sam feel hollow and lost. Dean turned around and climbed towards the entrance when he stopped in his tracks, startled by a loud thud. Heavy droplets of rain splashed onto the roof of moss and in the matter of seconds the branches were wet, dripping rain into the shelter. 

”Shit.” Sam followed his brother who had reached the entrance and left the shelter. Sam was on his heels and took a deep breath when he crawled outside and left the cabin behind that was dangerously swaying in the storm. Sam scrambled to his feet and looked around in awe. When he had come here midday the place had looked serene and calm, inviting and comforting. Now the sky was covered in black clouds and the air was being ripped apart by lightning. The thunder was a deep and loud rumble that seemed to echo in the forest around them. The trees sheltered them from the worst of the rain but there was still enough water to wet their hair and clothes in minutes. 

Dean was running a few steps ahead but Sam felt rooted to the spot. Every fiber in his being screamed at him not to go back and leave the comfort and shelter of this forest even though the place had turned hostile because of the storm. Sam noticed Dean’s jaw was once again set and his eyes distant. He had no idea what his brother was thinking or why he acted the way he was but Sam could not go back to the house. Back to Bobby’s concerned eyes and the pressure of keeping up an act for his past self. Sam had been with Dean for all his life and he knew that if the other could avoid or flee the conservation about his behaviour in the cabin he would without a shadow of a doubt do it. Sam had reached his limits in patience and endurance. 

Dean seemed to notice that Sam wasn’t following him and he turned around, his expression irritated. ”Are you coming? We need to get the hell out of the forest before the storm gets worse! It's not safe,” Dean shouted and extended a hand towards Sam.

Sam shook his head in determination and took a few steps back.

”No, I am not going back. Not like this,” He shouted back and crossed his arms over his chest. He was trembling again from the cold wind, his shirt was completely drenched already. 

”What’s wrong with you? Are you insane? We gotta get out of here for god's sake.”   
Dean approached him hastily and grabbed Sam’s shoulder harshly. His fingers dug into Sam’s skin, replacing the tender touches from earlier with something entirely different. 

”And then what? We go back to playing charade for Sammy and pretend that our lives haven’t turned into hell? So convenient, is it? To run away from what happened just now and go back to treating me like a piece of shit? I won’t do it anymore, Dean,” Sam wanted to yell at his brother but the last words were barely above a whisper. 

”Sam, no that's not what….please it’s dangerous out here in the storm. We need to get back first and then we can talk about this.” Dean loosened the grip on Sam's shoulder and cupped his cheek instead. Sam couldn’t help but lean into the touch as rain and tears mixed on his skin. He wanted to believe Dean so badly, wanted to believe that they would get back and talk, maybe somehow find a way to make things better. But he knew his big brother; talking about feelings was not something he did voluntarily. He had to be forced and even then it was hard to get more than a word or two from the stoic man. 

”I don’t believe you. As soon as we get back to the house you’re gonna act like you never came here and hugged me and called me….” Sam’s voice wavered and broke, a sob being ripped from his throat. Dean tried to pull him closer but he freed himself from his brother’s arms and backed away. Everything was just too much and too close after months of hatred. 

”Sammy, please, we need to get out of here,” Dean coaxed and approached him with his arms outstretched, beckoning Sam to follow him. 

”Go home, Dean. You left me for dead with those vampires, let the storm finish their job.” Sam turned around and ran in the opposite direction, deeper into the forest, into the storm. The world around him screeched in the cacophony of a violent autumn storm and Sam enjoyed it. He laughed, a broken and manic sound. Maybe he would be swept away with the storm, never to be found. 

All of a sudden the world started spinning and the ground came closer and closer. Dean had tackled him, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. His face landed in a puddle of muddy water before he had the chance to turn around and face his brother who now straddled him. 

”You wanna talk, fine then we’ll talk,” Dean growled, snatching Sam’s wrists and holding them in a vice like grip. His brother’s body was heavy and Sam couldn’t move despite his struggles. 

”I did not leave you for dead. I stayed with you the whole time; you had only superficial wounds.” 

Sam looked at his brother, gobsmacked at his words. He had no idea if he should believe them but his brother’s face only showed determination and grim honesty. He locked eyes with his older brother, drowning in a sea of green. Sam was hyperaware of his brothers body rubbing against his own every time he tried to move and escape his brother’s hands. Sam swallowed and licked his lips, trying to concentrate on the conversation. 

”I don’t understand….” Sam whispered and shook his head. Nothing made sense anymore. 

”I wanted you to believe that I left you. I just couldn’t cope seeing you using demon blood, having sex with this filthy sinful creature and…” Dean got interrupted by Sam swearing and turning his body sharply so that he lost the grip on Sam’s wrists. His back hit the ground and he found their positions reversed, with his brother’s huge body blanketing his own. His pulse spiked when Sam bent down and growled in his ear. 

”You stupid, stupid asshole. How many times do I have to tell you that I never had sex with Ruby? I was addicted and power hungry, not insane. I attacked her when she came from the shower and forced her to give her blood to me right away. Withdrawals.” Sam’s chest was rising and falling, still panting from the struggle to free himself. Wet strands of hair fell into his face and his lips trembled.

Dean looked at his younger brother and he couldn’t find a trace of deception in his expression. Dean realized that Sam had told him the truth since the beginning and his stomach clenched painfully. 

”Why do you care so much about this, Dean? If you are thinking of the salvation of my eternal soul I can tell you that ship sailed a long time ago. If you knew about the thoughts in my mind….,” Sam's voice was laced with bitterness as he continued ”having sex with a demon is nothing in comparison. It doesn’t matter.” 

”It does matter to me,” Dean responded quietly, gently tugging the wayward strands of Sam's hair behind his ears. ”The thought of you with this demon…..I just couldn’t stand it, Sammy.” Dean tried to be as honest as he could muster without giving anything away. He wondered how Sam could not see what was so clearly written all over his face and his gestures. But he hadn’t seen the truth either; spent months hurting his brother, punishing him for something the other hadn’t even done. They were both so blind when it came to their relationship, but right now Dean was glad that Sam didn’t seem to catch on to why this mattered so much to him. Sam just nodded, accepting the explanation given to him. 

”Can we please go back to the house, baby boy? You are freezing, the storm seems to get worse by the minute. I promise you we will continue to talk about this.” Dean tried to sound calm, despite his raging heartbeat and the desire clouding his mind. The weight of his brother’s body was a reminder of how much he had missed being close to the one person in the world he loved the most. But he also realized that he had no right to want even the simplest of brotherly affections, that's why he lowered his hand again instead of rubbing over his brother’s dirty cheek. Sam looked absolutely adorable but also apprehensive as if he didn't believe Dean. And who could blame him for that. In the end, Sam nodded and the weight on Dean’s body disappeared. 

Sam had a hard time believing that Dean would indeed keep the line of communication open just to improve things between them. On the other hand, this was a start, progress when he already had given up all hope. That's why Sam extended one hand to help his brother to his feet. Dean smiled a thousand watt smile at him and took the offered hand. When Dean finally stood upright again he let his hand linger a couple of seconds before removing it. The gesture set off a swarm of butterflies dancing in Sam’s stomach. Sam only hoped his hair would hide the blush coloring his cheeks. But even if Dean didn't notice it, he hardly thought Dean wouldn't notice how he held onto his calloused fingers tightly. Sam was embarrassed for his obvious neediness but was powerless against it. 

Dean gave his fingers a last squeeze before he turned around to walk towards Bobby’s house. This time Sam followed while he listened to the storm, the rain drenching him completely. Somehow he didn't mind. 

When they got back to Bobby’s property they found the man standing in the door, looking out over the now dark yard. He was illuminated by the light on the porch and he didn’t look happy, to say the least. 

”Where the hell have you boys been? Are you insane walking about in the storm? I thought you know better than that.” Bobby gritted his teeth and eyed their miserable appearance from head to toe. Both brothers kept their head down, trying to avoid scolding eyes from the person who was more a father to them than their own dad had been. 

”We’re sorry, sir. We were out in the forest when the storm surprised us. It’s my fault really, should've gotten us back in time,” Dean mumbled, which earned him a surprised glance from Sam. Sam took a breath and opened his mouth, surely to contradict his statement but Dean shook his head and fired one of his best big brother glares. It seemed to work because Sam lowered his eyes to the ground. 

”That was stupid, idjits. Now get back inside before you catch a cold. Also Sammy has been worried about you.” Bobby turned around and left the porch, the two boys trotting after him. 

They were about to go upstairs when Bobby stopped them. 

”Don’t you dare drag mud through this house. I want you both to go directly to the bathroom. I just cleaned right before you guys arrived.” 

Sam couldn’t help but smirk as he looked around. The place looked as dusty and untidy as it always had. The smirk disappeared when he realized what Bobby just ordered. There was only one fucking bathroom. 

”We can take turns, I’ll wait in the hallway,” Sam mumbled which earned him a disapproving look from Bobby. 

”You are too wet, gonna get muddy water all over the floor. But more importantly you gonna freeze, there is no heating in the hallway. I don’t see why you can share the bathroom. There is a tub and a shower after all.”

Sam could tell Bobby why this REALLY was a bad idea, that this was one of the worst ideas in the history of bad ideas. But he kept his mouth shut to not attract any suspicion. In Bobby’s mind there was no reason why they couldn’t share the bathroom like they had done so many times when they were kids. One of them showering, the other bathing or brushing teeth. 

Sam looked up and saw something dark flicker in Dean’s eyes but it was gone after a couple of seconds. They exchanged a look of resignation. When Bobby used that voice there was just no arguing. 

Dean dragged his hand through his wet hair, contemplating how they had gotten themselves into this situation. Honestly, sometimes he really thought that someone behind the scenes had a good laugh at their expense. He slowly climbed the stairs, hearing the telltale signs that his little brother was following him. Dean bit his lips and tried to concentrate on the task at hand: getting through a shower with minimal embarrassment and without revealing the true nature of his feelings. Easy. Dean huffed before he opened the wooden door. Even though the lock had been broken since he had been a boy it still had provided them with some privacy in their adult years. He could see why Bobby thought this was ok, but it didn’t make it any easier. 

They entered the bathroom and closed the door behind them. Sam’s shoulders were hunched and he looked so uncomfortable that Dean forgot momentarily about his own apprehensive feelings. There was just no way he could be lusting over his brother when the other felt clearly out of place and lost. 

”Look, Sammy, I am sorry. I know this is not ideal. But we have done this a hundred times. Wanna take the shower or tub?” Dean started to unbutton his first shirt while Sam made his decision. His little brother pointed at the shower and Dean could see why. Firstly the tub was way too small for someone Sam’s size but additionally the shower offered more privacy because of the frosted glass separating the shower from the rest of the room. 

Dean nodded in affirmation, wanting to give his brother as much privacy as he could because he knew how shy the other had become about his body. Without saying anything else he turned around and shed his wet pants and another shirt until he was only clad in his boxers. The rustling of fabric told him that his brother accepted the situation and prepared for his shower as well. While Dean filled the tub with warm water, his senses were trained on his brother’s movements. The padding of naked feet on the floor and fabric hitting the floor next to the shower, undoubtedly Sams underwear. Dean swallowed and tried to push away the images in his head and concentrate on the water. He breathed a sigh of relief when Sam slid open the glass doors. It took a while longer to fill the tub and he made sure to keep his back to Sam in case his body betrayed him.

Dean groaned in relief when he finally lowered himself into warm water and his muscles relaxed. He had no idea how tense he was. He watched his brother moving about in the shower through half-lidded eyes. The frosted glass didn’t let him see more than his brother’s contours and pale skin. Dean licked his lips as his mind provided him with the images his eyes couldn't see. They were, of course, highly imaginative as he hadn’t seen Sam naked in years. 

Sam washed his hair trying not to think about his brother’s presence right next to the shower. Dean had acted like this wasn’t a big deal and kept his back turned towards Sam the entire time. Like, he couldn’t care less that Sam was even in the same room, which probably was pretty close to the truth. Sam hated himself for peeking out through the frosted glass, straining his eyes to catch a glance at his brother in the tub. Of all he could tell Dean seemed relaxed and enjoyed the water whereas Sam had a hard time controlling his body. Hard being the operative word. Dean shifted in the tub and Sam imagined Dean leaving the water to join him in the shower. It was so easy to imagine his brother’s firm muscles pressed against his body, providing warmth and safety. 

Sam was embarrassed at his own inability to keep his thoughts at bay and his body in check. He reached for the temperature knobs turning the water cold. Just one solution to his problem. He hissed when the water met his heated skin. 

Dean heard his brother hiss and frowned. What was he doing? 

”Sam, you alright? he asked concerned. 

”Could you please hurry up? I really wanna have some privacy while toweling off.” 

Sam’s words sounded strangled, his voice laced with emotion Dean couldn’t pinpoint. He accepted his brother’s wishes and left the cooling water. He snatched a towel from the rack and put it round his waist. Dean cast one last lingering glance over at his brother’s body before he left the room.


	5. Chapter 5

The evening that followed was quiet. Bobby made some calls to other hunters to inquire vaguely about time travels. The information he gathered confirmed their fear, that just by bringing young Sammy into the future Castiel had already altered their timeline. They could hear Bobby’s sighs from the other room and exchanged worried glances. The brothers had popped in a dvd of an old movie, trying their best to avoid telling Sammy the most trivial of details about the future. This was of course a futile effort because Sammy had learned a great deal about the future only by spending time with them. 

Sam watched the younger version of himself laugh and cuddle close to Dean on the sofa. The bitterness and jealousy he was feeling was ridiculous but he couldn’t stop himself from longing to feel his brother’s arms around him. He was being childish and he knew it. It didn’t help that young Sammy somehow didn’t feel like the young version of himself, his reactions to things felt kind of off, generic somehow. Sam suspected that this was just his mind’s way of dealing with the unusual situation but it still felt unsettling. Had he really been like that when he was 13? Naive, somewhat gullible, and craving constant attention? He was annoyed by himself, the irony of the universe. 

Sam couldn’t stand to watch Dean interact with young Sammy any longer so he left his chair to join Bobby in his office. But the room was empty, a glass of scotch still standing on the desk next to a open book. Sam heard the shower running and decided to grab a soda before looking at Bobby’s research. 

Sam was startled by a hand grabbing his arm right after he had closed the fridge. Dean’s face was hidden by the shadows created by the darkness in the kitchen. Sam hadn’t bothered to turn on a light, knowing his way around in his sleep. 

”What's going on?” Dean asked, causing Sam to raise his eyebrows questioningly. He had no idea what his brother referred to. 

When Sam didn’t answer Dean rubbed his temples before adding: “You were all jumpy in there. Trying to hide it, I know, but you need to work on your poker face. You looked like you were about to murder Sammy. What’s that all about?”

”I...I don’t know,” Sam answered lamely, knowing that his brother wouldn’t believe his pathetic lie. They knew each other too well, after all. 

”Sure, Pinocchio. Lemme feel your nose.” Dean stepped closer, crowding Sam’s space who was trapped between his brother’s body and the fridge. It was the second time today that they were so close that they could smell the other’s aftershave. 

Dean tapped Sam tenderly on his nose before grazing Sam’s cheek with his fingertip, feeling the stubble from days without shaving against his skin. Dean knew that he probably shouldn’t be that close to Sam but he couldn’t help himself. The urge to be close to his brother had returned full force. Dean knew that he was being a hypocrite but knowing that Sam hadn’t slept with Ruby made all the difference to him. 

”You know, young Sammy…? I know he is supposed to be the past version of you but he is not….” Dean trailed off and bit his lips nervously. All evening his gut told him that Sam was behaving odd towards young Sammy because of the attention Dean gave the young boy.

He took a deep breath before continuing, ”He is not my baby boy, that’s only you.” 

Silence settled between them and Dean watched Sam swallow repeatedly. Had he read his little brother wrong and scared him with this open display of affection? 

”I am just not used to sharing you. I lost you and I am not even sure if I got you back but the thought of you loving him….” Sam tried to turn away to hide his eyes and flushed cheeks. He was so desperate that he almost confessed his love and ruined everything. 

”I am not, loving him that is. He doesn’t feel like you to be honest. I mean, I remember you at that age and young Sammy… I can’t describe it. I just don’t feel for him the way I feel for you even though I logically understand that he IS you.” 

”How do you feel about me?” The question was asked before Sam could stop himself. He was completely mortified at his behaviour. They finally made some progress in the right direction and he endangered it. 

Dean didn’t answer but leaned in to put a feathery kiss on Sam’s forehead. This was so out of character for his older brother that Sam just stared at him wide eyed. When Dean turned around the light spilling in from the hallway revealed Dean’s eyes, not apple-green but murky and dark like lakewater. Sam had seen this look on him before but had never been able to pinpoint what it meant. Before he could get his wits together Dean had reached the door with fast, long strides. He paused at the doorway, one hand on the doorframe and his head bowed. 

”I wish I could tell you,” Dean whispered, his voice broken and full of sorrow. 

Before Sam could reply Dean was gone and took with him the scent of pine, the scent of home. Sam was confused, trying to figure out what his brother meant. Did he mean that he didn’t know what he felt or that he knew and couldn’t tell him? Sam took a sip from his soda despite the fact that he wasn’t thirsty anymore. 

When Bobby returned from the shower he summarized what he had learned from the other hunters in short words. They were fucked, no matter how careful they were in not revealing too much about the future. 

Dean gritted his teeth, anger bubbling under his skin at the thought of the rogue angel who had without explanation put the world they just saved in danger. What was he even thinking? Dean tried again to contact the angel by calling out his name and some other less flattering words but he got no answer. In the end, he stomped off to their room, feeling the betrayal like a thorn in his flesh. Sam followed suit after he wished everyone a good night. 

”Dean?” Sam asked cautiously upon entering. When his brother was angry he could lash out at Sam for the smallest of things. Sure, they made progress but Sam wasn’t so stupid to believe they were back to normal. Somehow they were caught in a state of closeness, especially a physical one given the many times they hugged and otherwise touched each other since their talk in the woods. On the other hand, there was still so much left unsaid between them and after Dean’s statement in the kitchen, Sam suspected that there was much more to his brother’s behaviour. 

Dean looked up at Sam with wary eyes, hands folded on his lap. He looked like he had prayed and the thought of the desperation Dean must feel to do that broke Sam’s heart. 

”De, I know it is difficult to understand why Cas is behaving this way. But I am sure there must be a reason. Even if he can be a little odd at times, he cares about the fate of the world. Not to say that I agree that what he has done is right but maybe we shouldn't judge him so hard?” Sam put his hand on top of Dean’s smaller ones, gently caressing the soft skin on top of Dean’s hands. 

Sam loved Dean’s hands. He had long, elegant fingers, and soft skin but the palm of his hands told the story of too many fights and gun practices. They were calloused and rough, sending shivers down Sam’s spine whenever Dean touched his skin. 

“Yeah, probably, but who knows. Sometimes I am just so tired of all this bullshit and wish we could have a boring, normal life with petty and small problems like the rest of the world.” 

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, giving Sam the opportunity to notice the bags under Dean’s eyes. His older brother looked exhausted and Sam wished he could carry some of the burden he knew his brother always carried around. 

Sam shifted positions and let himself glide down to the floor. He rested his head against Dean’s knees but didn’t let go of his brother’s hands. 

“Mhm, what would that be like? You mean white fence, wife and kids?” Sam tried to keep his tone neutral to not convey how horrible that idea sounded to him. Having a normal relationship to his brother’s, seeing him at the holidays and family gatherings but otherwise leading separate lives felt like a especially excruciating nightmare to Sam. 

Dean scoffed and chuckled at the same time. 

“Nah, I don’t think we are marriage material. A house or a small cabin would be nice. Having a home, maybe even a white fence. Definitely no kids but maybe a dog, I know how much you want one.” Sam listened to Dean’s words and tried to imagine that life and couldn’t help but smile. 

“I didn’t know you noticed. I love dogs, always have. In that scenario, would we be….,” Sam paused to gather the courage to ask the question burning on his mind, “...living together?”

“Duh, of course. I know that you’ve longed for a dog since forever. Baby boy, if it is up to me, I’ll spend my whole life right by your side, with or without hunting.” Dean slowly placed his hands on Sam’s hair, gently tugging at the strands before carding his fingers through it. 

Sam bit his lips in an effort to not get overwhelmed by his emotions. His eyes had filled with tears at his brother’s words. The statement sent a swarm of butterflies dancing through his stomach while his heart almost missed a beat. 

A day ago he had been ready to end his own life just to escape this hell his life had turned into with a brother who hated him. Everything had changed so fast he felt like he was trapped on a rollercoaster. He was ecstatic to hear so much affection behind his brother’s words but there was still this tiny voice whispering that he couldn't trust Dean to stay. Maybe he would do something again to anger his brother and they would be back to the hatred and disgust. Tears flowed down Sam’s cheeks and his body shook at the onslaught of raw emotions. 

Dean looked at Sam, stunned by Sam’s emotional reaction. He cupped his younger brother’s cheek and tried to catch the tears wetting them. Dean was mesmerized by Sam’s eyes, how the tears changed their color and wet his brothers long lashes. He leaned down to put his forehead against Sam’s to comfort his crying brother. Sam’s skin against his felt slightly damp, his breath was warm on Dean’s face. 

Dean closed his eyes and brushed their noses together to try to convey that his words were honest and came from the bottom of his heart despite everything that had happened between them. Sam put his arm around Dean and snuggled even closer sending a shiver down Dean’s spine. The close proximity sent sparks of adrenaline through Dean’s body, having him on high-alert. 

Dean was aware of every part of their bodies that touched. The longing to comfort his brother and get even closer was so strong that he couldn’t stop himself from putting his fingertip on Sam’s plush but quivering lip. He could tell that his brother was holding his breath as Dean proceeded to caress Sam’s soft lips. Dean had no idea what he was doing or how to explain his behaviour later on. Sam opened his lips and took a shaky breath. A jolt of pure energy traveled through Dean’s entire body and nestled itself between his legs when Sam’s pink tongue darted out to touch his fingertip briefly. It lasted only a fraction of a second, if it weren’t for the throbbing arousal building between his legs Dean almost could have believed it never happened. 

The seconds ticked by, slower and slower until time seemed to freeze completely when Dean placed his lips against Sam’s, almost touching his brother’s but not quite. Dean felt totally terrified and exhilarated at the same time. As much as he just wanted to lean in and press his lips against Sam’s he couldn’t. He would never forgive himself for taking advantage of his brother’s vulnerability. So, instead he stayed put and breathed slowly in and out, enjoying how their breath mingled. 

To Dean’s surprise, Sam didn’t pull away, and after a couple of seconds the younger one leaned in, just a tiny movement of his head towards Dean, almost closing the small gap between their lips. Despite the guilt that was Dean’s constant company he leaned forward connecting their lips in a soft and tender kiss. It lasted only a second and reminded Dean of the goodnight kisses he used to give Sam as a child. Chaste pecks on the lips, full of love. 

Dean pulled back before he could give into the need to morph this into the kind of kiss he was yearning for. He would never forgive himself if he did because he would destroy everything. Sam’s obvious need for affection told Dean how much the other needed him, and needed them to find their way back to what they once had. Dean could not let his tainted and sinful thoughts get the better of him in such moments. He was convinced that this was about closeness and love for Sam, not born out of dark lust like his own desires. Sam had always been very affectionate, hugging and cuddling came natural to him. Dean wasn’t a hugger but he always made an exception for his little brother and enjoyed their closeness even back then when he hadn’t had developed these feelings for Sam yet. 

Dean had always loved Sam more than life itself. From the moment his father had placed him into his arms to save his brother from the fire Sam had been his. His father had never bothered with caring for Sam and relied on Dean to take care of the toddler. Sam’s first word was ”De”, one of Dean’s favorite memories. He had always been way too possessive of his brother and Sam had always been so dependant on his love and affection. But Dean had never thought something was wrong with that, their relationship was precious. 

The first time a not-so-brotherly thought had entered his mind was when Sam was 16 and came home heartbroken from school. Some bullies had made fun of him because he had not yet asked anyone out for winter formal. Sam had cried in his arms, explaining that he didn’t want to go to the formal because he didn’t want to ask out a random girl. He was just not interested and Dean’s heart almost broke at the sorrow in Sam’s voice. 

He had no idea what the reason was behind Sam’s statement and he didn’t ask, way too shocked about the thoughts running through his own head. The desire to ask Sam to go the formal together had been overwhelming and weird. He had been haunted for days with images of him and Sam dancing, holding hands. Finally, after a week he managed to push those thoughts into the darkest corner of his mind and whenever they were about to seep into his conscious thoughts he went out to find someone he could fuck until they disappeared. Dealing with shit the Winchester way. 

”I am tired, gonna get some rest.” Dean stood abruptly, almost sending Sam tumbling over from the unexpected movement.” 

”Yeah, sure,” Sam agreed in a raspy voice, his throat felt like it had been scrubbed with sandpaper. Sam remained on the floor to take a deep breath. Had Dean really just kissed him? 

Sam shook his head, almost unable to believe he had actually felt Dean's lips on his mouth. Dean hadn’t kissed him since he became too old for goodnight-kisses. Sam had a hard time getting his breathing under control as he licked over his lips, tasting Dean. His body reacted violently, sending a lot of blood rushing south. His mind felt blank and numb; Sam had no idea why Dean was acting the way he did. But somehow Dean’s words even more so than his kiss had restored some faith in Sam that maybe they could repair the damage done to their relationship if they put in the work. 

Sam could really tell that Dean was trying to communicate and be honest. It made him feel warm all over realizing that his brother went against his own nature to work for their relationship. 

Sam finally got up from the floor to see that Dean was already covered with his blanket. This time he didn’t lie with his back to Sam but faced Sam‘s bed. Sam crept under his own blanket and switched off the light on the bedside table. 

In the darkness, he could only make out the contours of his brother’s body. Hesitantly, he stretched his arm until he touched his brother’s arm hanging from the bed. He waited anxiously for several seconds until his brother’s fingers finally tangled with his own, holding his hand in a tight grip. Sam sighed contently and closed his eyes, happy to feel his brother.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam opened his eyes, startled awake by the sound of a car engine and people talking. The light filtering through the curtains told him that it was early morning. His eyes settled on the curtains swaying in the breeze of the open window. Sam’s mind was still hazy and it took him several seconds to realize that the curtains weren’t familiar and neither was the room. 

Sam sat up straight, his heart hammering in his chest. As soon as Sam’s eyes fell on his sleeping brother he took a deep breath in relief. Dean was lying in a bed next to him, his face mushed into the pillows underneath him and his blanket partially slipped to the floor. They weren’t at Bobby’s anymore but in a room that looked eerily like one of the countless motels they had visited during the years. The smell and look were familiar, even though this particular room wasn’t. 

“Dean, Dean wake up!” Sam tried but failed to keep the panic from seeping into his voice. They had fallen asleep at Bobby’s and woken up in a strange room. That was never a good sign. 

Dean turned slowly onto his back and rubbed his eyes before blinking groggily. 

“What’s up, baby boy?” He slurred, still partially trapped in dreamland. 

“Dean, we have a problem.” Sam reached over and grabbed his brother’s hand to yank at it. The action woke his brother fully, who reached for the gun on his nightstand before he even asked any questions. With the gun pointed at the room around him, his eyes finally met Sam’s. Sam read the same surprise and shock in Dean’s green eyes that he had felt upon waking up in a strange room. 

“Bobby, Sammy?” Dean shouted nervously, already guessing that they would not get any answers. 

“Shit, what happened?” Sam asked while climbing off the bed, ignoring that he was only wearing his boxers. He must have shed his shirt during the night. His boxers were tented from the pleasant dream that he had had before he was startled awake; a dream that involved Dean's hands on his body. There was no time to be ashamed of his body though, they had to figure out what was going on. They could be in imminent danger, a thought that sent chills down Sam’s spine. Despite the adrenaline spiking in his system his body didn’t seem to get the message and the tent in his boxers remained. Sam just hoped that his brother was too focused on the strange situation to notice.

Dean approached the door and tried the handle. The door was obviously locked but Dean rattled the knob a few times anyway before he cursed and turned around. Sam had grabbed his own knife by then and joined Dean at the window. Sam moved the curtains aside to sneak a peek at their surroundings. They saw an almost empty parking lot and a blinking neon sign. Next to the hotel was a street that didn’t seem totally dead despite the early hour. A few cars drove by as the brothers scanned the area for unusual activity. Nothing in the bleak light looked dangerous or out of place so Sam’s quick breathing slowed down somewhat. 

“Ok, let's go over this. What do you remember? I remember falling asleep in our room at Bobby’s,” Sam inquired, placing a hand on Dean's naked shoulder to get his brother’s attention. Despite the weird situation Sam still managed to notice the freckles on Dean’s skin, wondering what they would taste like before his thoughts got interrupted by his brother growling and then the sound of Dean gritting his teeth. 

“Same. We talked and then went to sleep. We…,” Dean paused, “held hands before falling asleep.” 

With a direct view of his brother's neck, Sam could tell that the other was blushing at his own words, redness spreading from the nape of his neck upwards. For a moment Sam ignored the lingering danger and grabbed Dean’s hand to squeeze it gently. Dean’s thumb caressed the back of Sam's hand before he let go to turn around to see if the room offered any clues as to what had happened to them. 

Dean had just opened the nightstands to find nothing but an old and worn bible when the door opened. He spun around and pointed his gun at the intruder and possibly their kidnapper. His heart thundered in his chest but the cold metal in his hand reassured him that he would be able to protect his brother no matter what. His heart slowed down and relief flooded him when he recognized the familiar trench coat from their angel friend. 

“Cass?” Dean asked curtly, wanting to make sure that this was indeed Castiel and not some unknown creature out to get them. 

“Sam, Dean, you are awake already. I am sorry, I should have been here,” Castiel crossed the threshold and closed the door with a thud. In his hands, he held two cups of coffee and a brown paper bag containing something greasy that slowly wet the bag. Castiel put the coffee and the food on the table and folded his hands, looking at Dean patiently who growled in response.

“Damn right we are. Where the hell have you been and more importantly why the fuck aren’t we at Bobby’s? Where is Sammy?” Dean raised his voice and balled his hands into fists. The calm expression on Castiel's face had his blood boiling in rage. He had contacted the angel time and time again, begged and prayed to no avail but now Cass strode in like nothing had happened. 

“Sammy is gone,” Castiel explained while taking two steps towards Sam. 

Dean’s eyes fell onto Sam’s state of undress and how the threadbare boxer’s he was wearing revealed more than someone should reveal to any person despite their partner. Dean strode over to Sam quickly and positioned himself between his little brother and the angel, who had stopped in his tracks and looked at Dean questioningly. 

“How do you mean gone?” Sam asked and put a hand briefly on the small on Deans back. He could feel his brother’s anger radiate from him and was afraid that Castiel would disappear again before they got any answers. 

“Don’t tell me you hauled Sammy from the past, dropped him in the future, thereby endangering the world we just saved, just to put him back without any explanation? Have you lost your freaking mind, Cass?” Dean’s tone was harsh but underneath it, Sam could clearly hear the disappointment his brother felt. Castiel was supposed to be their friend and care for the fate of humanity, or so they had believed. 

“That is not what happened. I just said Sammy was gone not that I dropped him back in the past. To be completely honest, Sammy never existed. So don’t worry, I never endangered the safety of humankind.” 

The brother’s stared at Castiel gobsmacked. Dean opened his mouth but closed it again before he could utter a word. Sam recovered first and cleared his throat.

“He never existed? Castiel, we need to stop playing 20 questions and you need to start explaining what the hell is going on,” Sam tried to put as much authority in his voice as he could muster. 

“Neither I nor you have asked 20 questions. You have asked six questions since I have arrived,” Castiel stated calmly and buried his hands in his trench coat pockets. 

Sam took a deep breath and prayed that Dean would not kick the angel's ass before they could get a full explanation. His brother looked positively murderous, a fire lighting his eyes and his jaw set. Despite the weird situation Sam couldn’t help but feel attracted to this dangerous side of his brother. The way he stood his ground, his gun still pointing at Castiel, it was incredibly sexy, even though it shouldn’t be. 

“Explain what the fuck is going on. NOW!” Dean ordered through gritted teeth. Sam wondered how much self-restraint it cost Dean not to physically lash out at the angel who seemed calm and collected, only his eyes showed a hint of an emotion. Sometimes it was plain frustrating that Cass could be so closed off and non-approachable. 

“Dean, I know you’re going to get angry but I assure you that I did what I did to ensure the future safety of humankind. You and Sam,” a small smile tugged at his lips but it was gone again before he continued, “have been trapped in an illusion. Sammy was never here and you never went to Bobby’s. I created this illusion with the help of another angel to protect mankind from destruction years down the line.” 

“What? You mean none of this was real? Nothing?” Dean closed his eyes for a moment, hating how weak and desperate he sounded. To be fully honest he didn’t give a rat’s ass about past-Sammy but his heart ached at the thought that this fragile new bond that he was building with Sam was nothing but an illusion. He took slow steps towards the bed and sank down on it with a sigh. He buried his face in his hands, trying to press back the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. 

Sam looked puzzled at his brother whose reaction to Castiel’s statement was surprising, to say the least. Sam had expected rage and anger but instead, Dean seemed defeated. 

“No, that's not what I said. It's more complicated than that. Yes, Sammy and Bobby have been an illusion as well as the setting. But you still experienced everything, even though you did it with your mind.” 

Dean lifted his eyes and looked at Castiel who had lost the neutral expression and looked like he was in pain. 

“This gives me a headache,” Sam stated, but neither the angel nor his brother answered as they stared at each other in silence. 

“The obvious question here is why Castiel. What was supposed to happen in that illusion that would save humankind? For God’s sakes, we just spent two days at Bobby’s that’s it.” Sam let his own anger and disappointment color his voice. Castiel was supposed to be their friend but it seemed like he just had trapped them for days and played tricks with their minds for nothing. 

“Mankind is not safe without your protection. We, all of us, need you both to defend us against dark powers, especially if the signs are right and there will be darker times ahead.” 

Strangely, Castiel looked at Dean while answering Sam’s questioning, leading Sam to huff in annoyance. Castiel was way too melodramatic for his taste. 

Castiel approached Dean and kneeled on the floor right in front of him before taking Dean’s hands into his own. 

“He needs you, Dean. He needs you to be strong and honest about how you feel. I promise….” Before the angel could finish his sentence he was shoved backward and fell on his back with a surprised yelp. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are? How dare you invade our minds and thoughts just so that we can do the work for you and save the world. I don’t care about the fucking world,” Dean yelled at the angel on the floor, his chest heaving with elaborated breaths with eyes promising darkness and torture. 

“But you care about Sam. You guys needed to stop acting like children and finally go back to being a team, brothers, and friends.” 

Ice-cold dread nestled inside of Sam as he finally made sense of the interaction between the angel and his brother. He didn’t get it at first, unlike Dean who had drawn the right conclusions immediately. Castiel had manipulated them so that they would stop fighting and finally get over it? It sounded so simple, like it was the easiest task in the world when in reality there was so much hurt and pain that he wasn’t sure they would ever be able to go back to what they had before. 

“Dean,” Sam interjected, trying to get his brother’s attention. His voice wavered as fear began to cloud his thoughts.

“I do not want to talk to you right now. Don’t you understand that he manipulated us? It wasn’t real, nothing was.” Dean took the cupholder with the abandoned coffees and hurled them towards Cass who ducked but still got some splashes of coffee on his white shirt and trench coat. The rest splattered partially on the wall next to the door and then disappeared into the already stained carpet. 

“Dean, please. That's not true. You heard Cass, we still experienced it, that means everything we said and did was honest.” Sam pleaded, approaching his big brother with raised hands. 

Dean just repeatedly shook his head and backed away a few steps as soon as Sam came closer. 

“Please, De,” Sam almost choked at the words, his voice trembling as much as his hands. He tried not to let the panic take over his thoughts and actions but the fear gnawed at his soul relentlessly. He had seen his brother closing himself off like this countless times, too stubborn to even consider that he might not have the whole picture or that there were other perspectives to take into account. When Dean made up his mind almost nothing could get through to him. Last time he acted like this he had pretended to leave Sam for dead in an old warehouse.

“Sam, what is it that you don’t get?” Dean raised his voice to get through to his little brother.   
It was clear as day that Cass had manipulated them and tricked their minds into believing the illusion. He didn’t trust Cass’ words that their experiences had been real. What if that was just another trick to get them to make up so that they could clean up some future mess they had no involvement in. Sam seemed frustratingly gullible, he believed the angel so easily despite the fact he had just shown them that he couldn’t be trusted. 

“He is full of shit,” Dean pointed accusingly at Cass who rubbed at his stained clothes with a pained expression, “you don’t know what is real and what is not. You can’t be sure.”

Tears blurred Sam’s sight but he did not brush them away. All energy had been drained from his body. He slowly sank to his knees and bowed his head. Dean would leave him, just as he had left when he had learned about Sam and the demon blood. Sam knew that tone in Dean’s voice and guessed that the other had mentally already declared their relationship a lost cause. Sam’s body shook as he realized that he would lose the one person he loved more than life itself once again. Even Lucifer could not have come up with a torture more excruciating. Sam felt like his soul was ripped apart, shredded to pieces and drowned in darkness. 

“I know that my feelings are real. I love you, Dean.” Sam whispered, his head still bowed and tears silently streaming down his face. 

When their relationship first fell apart he had wanted to scream and curse and sob. Now his despair was so deep and earth-shattering, no sound escaped his lips and his tears slid down his cheeks silently. There was no fight left in him, only defeat and resignation. 

Silence followed his statement and then the loud thud of the door closing. Seconds later Sam heard a car engine roaring and tires on gravel. Sam looked up at Cass who stood by the door, a hand pressed on his mouth. The angel seemed shocked and hurt but Sam could not feel any triumph that the angel finally showed any emotion. Sam’s whole world had narrowed down into one undeniable fact: Dean was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for suicidal thoughts and suicide attempt

Silence settled into the room, only interrupted by Sam’s harsh breathing. Time seemed to slow down, seconds ticked by steadily as if Sam’s world hadn’t just been ripped apart. Sam refused to open his eyes, unable to endure the sight of the closed door. He felt his brother’s absence in every fiber of his being, as if they were connected on some atomic level. 

Sam’s soul ached in ways he hadn’t thought were possible. The ache was a bottomless, dark pit filled with every sinful desire, every fight they had had and every time they had closed the door to a healthy relationship. Sam knew that the codependency between him and Dean was unhealthy but he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. 

Everyone, from their father to Bobby, had told them that they were too close and yet it had never been close enough. There had always been this intense longing to get closer, to feel and touch his brother, even before he became a teenager and learned about the desires turning his soul into a dark place. In the end, it turned out their father had been right, their intense relationship had turned into a dangerous thing, ripping his soul into pieces. 

The rustling of fabric told Sam that Castiel was still there, probably shifting from one foot to the other. Sam knew in his heart that Castiel had done what he thought was right, unfortunately he hadn’t counted on Dean’s stubbornness and reluctance to let anyone interfere with his life. 

After a while Sam sighed and pressed his hands against his temples, a splitting headache sent waves of nausea through his body. 

It took an enormous amount of energy to peel himself off the floor and approach their beds. Sam’s eyes never left the greyish carpet, his mind shut off to anything but the blinding headache and the endless pain relentlessly gnawing at his soul. 

Faintly, he recognized Castiel’s voice pleading with him but the meaning of the words escaped him. Slowly, he let himself fall down onto Dean’s bed, burying his head in the pillow that still carried his brother’s scent. He relished it because soon even the last traces of his brother’s presence in his life would be washed away by time, leaving him with only memories.

Sam pressed his eyes shut as the door opened and closed with a thud, the angel finally giving him the solitude that he craved. 

Sam contemplated, that given their lifestyle, he had always thought the end would come while being bitten to death by a monster or killed by a demon. He had imagined the last thing he would see in this life would be a pair of black eyes or sharp, pointy teeth tearing his throat out. He had imagined that he would put up a decent fight and then he would let go of this life peacefully, knowing he had protected the weak ones and made a difference. Maybe it hadn’t been a good life but he had cherished it nevertheless. 

Fate, however, had once again surprised him. As it turned out, the end was not sharp teeth or black eyes but the door closing behind his brother. It had been as final as a knife to the heart. 

The moment his brother left Sam’s will to live went with him. He had reached the end of the road, but behind the devastation and heartbreak was also a shred of relief. His hurting and aching soul would soon get to rest peacefully. 

Sure, Sam could go on without his brother but he couldn’t imagine anything more terrifying and devastating than slowly forgetting about his big brother. Right now, Sam was still able to recollect the feeling of his brother’s plush lips pressed against his, Dean’s strong arms holding him tight, and long fingers resting on the small of his back. Dean’s scent hung still in the air, a combination of some cheap aftershave, motor oil and old leather. The low rumble of Deans voice was still familiar to his ears; when he closed his eyes he could hear his brother’s full-blown laughter, loud, boisterous and totally enchanting. 

Sam knew, that given time, these memories, now intense and colorful, would start to fade away until he’d wake up one day without remembering how Dean sounded when he was happy or the way his eyes sparkled in arrays of green when the sunshine hit them. He would forget how delicious Dean’s freckles looked and how the tone of Deans voice changed into a high pitched whine when Sam teased him about them. 

The path without Dean would be lonely, sad, and painful. Sam had no strength left, he had fought all his life; first against his father, then monsters and demons and in the end he had been forced to fight his stubborn brother in the illusion, to make him see how much he meant to Sam. 

He had spent all his energy and now there was nothing left to put up a fight with. This time he would accept Dean’s decision to leave and tear their lives apart. But he wouldn’t stick around to witness the damage it would cause to himself, to Dean, and the world. This time he would be selfish and give into the longing for darkness, the longing for a place where the pain would finally stop and his mind would go quiet. He hoped that this place existed and that he wouldn’t be haunted by memories, or worse still, by the shadow of the things that could have been if Dean had stayed and listened. 

Sam’s throat felt parched, his back ached from lying uncomfortably twisted on the bed. He rose after a while, stumbling into the bathroom on numb feet. 

Sam approached the cabinet but avoided looking into the mirror. Instead he bowed down to drink from the faucet and let water wet his face, cold tendrils running down his face and into his hair. 

Sam sighed and looked around the room, his eyes residing thoughtfully on the bathtub. It was small and looked grimy at the edges, but Sam couldn’t care less. He walked over and touched the faucet with his fingertips, feeling the cool metal against his skin. Sam drew a deep breath and opened the faucet, adjusting the knobs until the water running into the tub was lukewarm. 

He left the bathroom with a satisfied smile and walked over to the windows. Once again he moved the curtains aside to take a look at the empty parking lot. Somehow he had expected the angel to linger in the shadows but there was no one around as far as he could see. Sam tucked the curtains back in place, shielding himself from curious eyes in case someone walked by and tried to look inside. Sam locked the door before he spun around in search for the familiar duffle bag containing their weapons. He had no idea what happened to their stuff while they had been trapped in the illusion but he hoped that Castiel just dumped their stuff in the motel room, just like he had dumped their bodies. 

The duffle bag was indeed under one of the beds, seemingly slung there without care for its importance for their survival. Sam kneeled and dragged the heavy bag towards him and opened the zipper slowly. Peering inside, Sam contemplated how many times these weapons had ensured their safety and survival. He felt almost bad for using one of these for the exact opposite. But desperate times demanded desperate actions, he mused, before grabbing a dagger they had found at an abandoned witches lair. It was 10 inches long with intricate symbols covering the blade. The dark wood of the handle felt smooth in his hands. His fingertips traveled along the edge of the blade, testing its sharpness. A droplet of fresh, bright red blood emerged from his fingertip and Sam nodded, content. The blade was sharp and would suffice for his purpose.

Sam rose to his feet and walked back towards the open bathroom door. He approached the tub and nodded when he saw that the water filled the tub almost entirely. Sam turned off the water and climbed into the tub, folding his limbs until his knees almost touched his chest. He was thankful that he never got the chance to dress properly. The bathtub was tiny and he could barely move in the constricted space. The lukewarm water made him shudder, he should have aimed for warmer water, but in the greater scheme of things it really didn’t matter. Sam let his back glide down the tub until he was able to rest his head against the edge. 

He looked at the blade with half-lidded eyes; his mind had raced all morning but now the tornado of thoughts had stopped, leaving him with a mute numbness. Sam had no idea how much time passed, the water cooled down after a while but he didn’t move. Through the small window he could see a stretch of blue sky and clouds drifting by. Sam cast a last glance at the sky before he pressed the blade to his forearm, testing the resistance his skin and flesh would provide. 

Surprisingly, the blade sank into his flesh fairly easily and he yelped when he hit nerves deep within. He didn’t stop but gritted his teeth and continued to push the blade deeper. Years of hunting had made Sam somewhat used to pain but this was different from getting beat up in a fight, even different than being stabbed by someone else. This pain was more intense, as if it multiplied not only in his body but his soul as well. But beneath it all he could already feel an alluring darkness, promising him peace. The first cut went deep and Sam’s chest heaved in elaborated breaths, small whimpers escaped his mouth despite his best efforts to stay quiet. 

Soon the skin on his forearm was cut in a criss-cross pattern, blood dripping from several deep gashes. Sam closed his eyes, his fingertips tingling. He had a hard time holding onto the knife. The world slowly lost its shape, colors bleeding together and solid forms melting into a jumbled chaos. Darkness crept from the edges of his vision, covering almost everything in pure blackness. Sam blinked repeatedly to focus his vision so that he could continue. His arm was now a work of art with sharp and long gashes, deep red blood flowing freely from his wounds into the water. It would be so easy to give into the longing to go to sleep, close his eyes forever but Sam needed to make sure that his wounds were severe and deep. No matter what happened, he didn’t want to be saved.

Minutes ticked by until the blade fell out of Sam’s hands, landing in the water with a splash. Sam tried to find it with his numb fingers but gave up after a while, he wasn’t able to see properly and a sharp ringing sound in his ears distracted him from his goal. Tears flowed down his pale cheeks and the last thought on Sam’s mind was the feeling of his brother’s arms around him. 

Far, far away, Sam heard the echo of Castiel's voice, shouting foreign words. Something crashed loudly but Sam couldn’t pinpoint the sound, his head felt like he was wrapped in cotton. Everything was soft at the edges, the world had long ago lost its focus. 

”Sam, Sam, please come back to me, Sam!” 

Sam thought the voice sounded like his brother and he smiled before he let go of this world completely.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean looked at his lifeless brother in shock. The amount of blood in the water and on the floor had bile rising in his throat. Sam’s head was tilted to one side, his face pale but features peaceful. The arm resting on the edge of the tub was cut badly, deep gashes tore the once soft skin apart. Horror swept through Dean as he realized that he could spot bones beneath the red flesh and blood. Dean’s body began to shake, a trembling originating in the very core of his being. Cold sweat covered his body and no matter how hard he tried there seemed no way to get oxygen to his lungs. 

”Sammy, Sammy, Sammy,” he chanted in a broken voice, knowing deep down that his brother couldn’t hear his words, not in the state he was in. 

Dean approached the tub and knelt down next to his brother, not acknowledging the fact that his knees sat in a puddle of blood. His brother's blood. Dean leaned forward to press his forehead against Sam‘s, a gesture so familiar like life itself. His hands found Sam‘s bloody ones and he took them gently, holding them like they were precious porcelain. 

After a while, his slippery fingers found Sam’s wrist and his heart stopped in pure shock when he couldn’t feel a pulse. He sobbed in anguish for a couple of seconds before he collected himself and tried once more. He couldn’t accept that his brother was gone. Gone because he had left him. Dean knew that he would never forgive himself for what had transpired in this bathroom. 

Finally, his fingertips detected a fluttering, like the wings of a butterfly. It felt faint and irregular but it meant that there was a chance to save Sam. 

Cass was by his side all of a sudden, or he had been all along but Sam was the only thing Dean could see. His friend gently pushed him aside and for a second Dean wasn’t able to let go. He wanted to stay and hold Sam’s hand. Before he could say anything Cass shoved him out of the way and leaned over Sam. 

”Close your eyes, Dean. I will need all my strength to remedy this. I can’t do this while my true being is trapped.” Dean just looked at Cass, for a couple of seconds torn between the conflicting emotions of not trusting anyone to take care of his little brother and the knowledge that the angel was the only one who could save Sam. 

”Now, Dean!” Cass ordered, his voice had lost the slight insecurity it always contained and was replaced by something else. Dean couldn’t pinpoint what it was but all of a sudden he had no problem imagining Cass leading angels in war. 

Dean closed his eyes; while waiting he contemplated about how he would never see Castiel's true self. For a moment he wanted to open his eyes to see his angel friend save his brother. But even if he could see Castiel's true self without dying on the spot he most definitely did not deserve it. He had fucked up beyond repair because he was stubborn, proud, and caught up in a spiral of guilt and shame.

Holding his brother's bloody hand he had realized that he had been an idiot. All along he had thought his feelings would endanger Sam. It turned out it wasn’t his feelings but his fear of them that had led to this moment. 

So what if Sam knew? He would never touch his brother without permission or behave in any way that wasn’t brotherly. All his thoughts about the sinfulness of his desires seemed petty now. His world had for such a long time only focused on that small part of their relationship, ignoring that they were brothers and friends as well. He had destroyed these other parts just because he couldn't stand the fact that he wasn't the perfect big brother. 

Dean heard Castiel whisper words in Enochian, his trenchcoat rustled whenever he moved. Dean imagined the sight must be majestic; the powerful angel saving his beautiful brother with his grace. Dean had not deserved either of them and he wanted to run with every fiber of his being. That was what he always did, convincing himself they would be better off without him. But even if that was the truth his brother clearly and violently disagreed. This time, however, Dean would put his own fears and insecurities aside. He had to face his brother and finally, after all these years, he would tell him the truth. 

The minutes stretched, the waiting a painful form of torture. Dean heard Castiel's elaborate breathing, now and then there was a low grunt like whatever Cass did it took all his strength. Water dripped from the faucet in annoying irregular intervals, droplets of water falling down into a bathtub filled with way too much blood. After a while, Dean noticed the distinctive sound of wings before silence settled into the room. 

”You can open your eyes, Dean,” Castiel whispered, he sounded tired and worn down. 

When Dean opened his eyes the sight that greeted him was like a scene from a horror movie. Castiel carried Sam in his arms, Sam’s head, lifeless, lolling to the side like a ragdoll. There was blood everywhere; covering Castiel's clothes, hands and even parts of his face. But as far as Dean could tell Sam’s wounds had stopped bleeding. He had no idea if that was a good thing. 

His brother looked like a corpse in the angel's arms and the sheer terror of the sight sealed Dean's lips shut. He wanted to ask if Cass had been able to save Sam but he couldn’t form the words. Dean looked down, unable to endure the sight any longer. His eyes fell onto his hands, covered in his brother's blood both literally and figuratively. He had sworn to protect Sam from the monsters of the world but in the end, it was his own foolish actions that had led to this. 

Castiel walked past Dean who was still sitting on the floor. He watched Cass put Sam gently down onto the bed. In this state of not knowing if his brother was alive or dead- Schroedinger’s Sam- Dean vowed that he would spend the rest of his life working for Sam’s forgiveness if the other survived. No more lies, no more pride and no more shame. He would love his brother and show it to him every minute of every day in every way his brother allowed him to. He would make it his mission that his brother felt loved, cherished and important every day for the rest of their lives. 

”There is a chance he’ll survive this if he makes it through the night. I did everything I could but there was only so little life left inside of him,” Castiel addressed Dean’s unspoken question. 

Tear-filled green eyes met blue ones for a couple of seconds. The guilt they saw in the other's eyes mirrored their own. The only innocent person in the room was hanging onto life by a mere thread. 

”I love him, I mean, I have always loved him since the moment my mother let me hold him for the first time. Did you know his first word was ’De’?” Dean rambled, feeling the need to fill the deadly silence with his confession. 

When Cass sat down next to him on the floor Dean continued, his eyes glued to the motionless figure on the bed.

”He has always been everything but then things changed and I loved him more than I should. More than what is right. I am in love with him and I don’t know how to stop, don’t even know if I want to,” Dean cried, thick tears streaming down his face. 

”I know,” Castiel said and squeezed Dean's hand. Dean had uttered the words he had been so afraid of for the first time aloud and surprisingly the world hadn’t come to an end. His friend, a creature of heaven, accepted it without question. 

”But… it is wrong…,” Dean stuttered between sobs. Somehow his friend’s calm understanding confused him. He had seen his feelings in a certain light for such a long time he expected the angel to yell at him for the sinfulness of his thoughts. 

”Many things that happened here are wrong,” Castiel gestured towards the bed, ”but you loving your one true soulmate is not one of them. That's why I created the illusion. To make you see and understand that.” Castiel shook his head in desperation. 

”My soulmate?” Dean sounded suspicious. ”Cass, this is not a chick-flick.” 

Castiel sighed deeply, burying his head in his hands. His voice reached Dean muffled but the message couldn’t be clearer. They were meant to be, had always been. Eternal lovers from lifetime to lifetime, no matter what form their bodies took.

”He feels the same?” Dean asked astounded, still trying to grasp the concepts of souls and eternal love. 

”Yeah, he always has, just like you. It's not my place to tell you this. But I don’t care, who knows if he’ll ever get the chance or if he still wants to after all of this.”

After the finality of that statement silence settled between them. The magnitude of the revelation had Dean’s mind spinning so he decided to focus on what was most important: getting Sam through the night. 

Dean peeled himself off the floor and approached the bed. He sat down on the edge, his eyes trained on Sam’s chest. If he stared hard enough he could almost see it rise and fall. After a while, exhaustion overwhelmed him and he curled up next to his brother. Dean put his arms tenderly around his brother and pressed his mouth to Sam’s ear. Sam’s hair was still damp and the metallic smell of blood surrounded them. But Dean didn’t care, instead, he whispered words of love into Sam‘s ear, hoping they would reach his brother and tell him that there was still someone waiting for him to wake up. 

Sam made it through the night but it took one more day until he finally regained consciousness. Dean sat by his side all that time, only leaving him when Cass insisted on shower and food breaks. Dean had tried to call Bobby several times but the courage had always left him right before the other could answer the phone. He had no idea how to explain this. 

The moment Sam woke up Dean was busy cleaning his battered body. Cass had healed the worst of the wounds but there were still angry, infected looking red scars and stains of blood littering Sam’s body. 

As soon as Sam seemed stable, his heartbeat steady and breathing detectable, Dean had set out to clean his sleeping brother. He ran a cotton washcloth tenderly over Sam’s chest and stomach. He flinched when he reached Sam’s arms but proceeded to gently wash the blood away. When Sam opened his eyes Dean had just finished cleaning his face and was gazing down at his brother's features, their faces only inches apart. 

Dean’s heart skipped a beat when suddenly hazel eyes looked at him, first unfocused and then intently. He wanted to say something but his tongue was tied by all the emotions crashing over him. Dean wanted so desperately to lean down and kiss Sam that his whole body tingled. But he suppressed the urge, not knowing how much of the love Cass had talked about still remained after he had abandoned Sam. Sam didn’t say anything but stared blankly back at Dean. 

”Sammy,” Dean whispered, finally losing the fight against his longing for closeness. He brushed his nose against Sam’s, something they had always done when Sam was still a child. 

”Why….” Sam trailed off and swallowed visibly, ”...do you look so worried?” The question must have cost a lot of strength because Sam’s breathing picked up in speed. Dean worried his lips and gently placed a hand on Sam’s cheek. 

Sam looked at Dean questioningly. He felt like his head was filled with wool. His body ached every time he tried to move and his throat was raw. Sam had no idea what was going on. Had he been in a fight? His memory seemed jumbled, chaotic. The last thing he remembered was Cass telling them about the illusion he had created and after that there was darkness. Sam’s head hurt, he felt miserable and couldn’t help to lean into his brother’s familiar touch. Sam looked at Dean, the dark circles under his eyes and his pale skin. Dean’s eyes seemed unnaturally wide and his hand felt cold against Sam’s cheek. 

”What...happened?” Sam managed to say before his parched throat threw him into a coughing fit. 

For a while, Dean said nothing, which would have been alarming if it weren’t for Dean’s reassuring caresses. Soft fingertips mapping his skin tenderly, a touch so sweet Sam wanted to close his eyes and cherish it. But he also wanted answers, something seemed to be off but he couldn’t remember what it was. A nagging feeling that there was something important right under the blanket of blackness that obscured his memory. 

”You don’t remember?” Dean asked and closed his eyes for a moment. For a second relief flooded him before he reprimanded himself. No more lies, no more secrets. If Sam didn’t remember he had to tell him even if his brother would hate him forever. He had deserved no better. 

Sam shook his head and licked his dry lips. Dean’s eyes zoomed in on Sam’s tongue slowly swiping over his lips, in an effort to wet them. The urge to kiss his brother came back full force and this time Dean could not resist the temptation. He leaned down and pressed his lips against Sam’s chapped ones, a kiss that only lasted a couple of seconds. Even if it would be the last kiss they would ever share Dean was content with it. Feeling his brother alive underneath him, warm breath caressing his cheek, was more than Dean had dared to hope when they found Sam. 

Sam looked surprised after Dean broke the kiss, one eyebrow raised in question. Even though his brother seemed confused, Dean couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Sam had clearly leaned into the touch and kissed him back for a sweet second. Dean had not doubted Castiel's words but the very physical confirmation of their love sent butterflies off in his stomach. Dean tried to suppress the excitement, knowing that as soon as Sam found out there was a big chance he wouldn’t want Dean near him at all. 

”I almost lost you,” Dean whispered, and his voice broke despite his best effort to not show too much emotion. 

Sam frowned, trying to remember anything. There was something about a door closing. He gasped as the pain of the memory crashed over him. Did Dean leave? But why was he back, kissing him like that? Sam felt tired and dizzy, so he closed his eyes again. He was exhausted and the knowledge that Dean had left again drained him from any energy and will to confront reality. Sam could feel sleep gently tug at him and with a sigh he once again gave into the embrace of darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

When Sam woke up again he felt much better. His body was still sore but the dull ache that had spread from his arms throughout his whole body had disappeared. He felt tired but the deep exhaustion had been replaced by sleepy drowsiness. 

This time Dean laid next to him, one arm curled protectively around his chest. His face was pressed against Sam’s cheek and Sam felt Dean’s eyelashes tickling his skin. Dean’s breath was warm and the soft caress of Dean's lips whenever he moved made Sam flush. A part of him wanted nothing more than to press closer, feel Dean‘s muscular body. But a bigger part reminded him that Dean had left him.

The confusion that had clouded his mind was gone and Sam had no problem remembering what had happened. There was a part of him that was deeply disappointed that he was still here, having to face his brother. But beneath the disappointment and pain was something else, stirred awake by the peaceful look on his brother’s face and the way he slightly wrinkled his nose once in a while. Sam looked at the elegant bow of Dean‘s lips and how the freckles highlighted his cheekbones. Sam wondered if he ever would be able to trust Dean again, to look at him and not feel the painful mixture of hurt, love, and disappointment. 

The moment Dean woke woke up he noticed that Sam was watching him with a frown. Sam looked hurt and confused so Dean reached out for him without thinking, driven by the need to make his little brother feel better. Dean felt Sam tense up when he cupped Sam‘s neck before dragging Sam towards him to press their lips together in a chaste kiss. Sam‘s eyes widened almost comically before he took a deep breath. Dean didn’t let go of Sam but caressed the sensitive skin on the back of his neck. Sam‘s breathing quickened but he stayed where he was, allowing Dean to let his tongue glide slowly over Sam’s bottom lip. Dean could feel Sam tremble in his arms and was about to retract when Sam opened his mouth gingerly. It only took a tiny movement of Dean‘s head to dip his tongue into the velvety warmth of Sam’s mouth. 

To taste and feel his brother was overwhelming but Dean tried to keep his feelings in check. Sam had opened his mouth but now he was keeping still, not reacting in any way to Dean’s tongue mapping the roof of his mouth and tenderly massaging Sam‘s passive one. Just when Dean was about to give up coaxing any reaction from his brother Sam moved forward, tightening his arms around Dean. Heat coiled in Dean’s stomach the second Sam wrapped his tongue around Dean‘s, kissing him back eagerly. Dean couldn’t help but whimper when Sam sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, turning the kiss from gentle and cautious into intense and almost bruising. 

Dean felt like he was about to lose control so he broke the kiss. Sweat had gathered on his forehead and his skin felt like he was on fire. 

”Baby boy,” he whispered, leaning forward to place a kiss on Sam’s forehead. 

”I don’t understand,” Sam stuttered, his lips now trembling. 

Dean had totally surprised him with this kiss. At first, he was too shocked to react, his mind going blank. His logic told him to shove Dean away, that Dean had no right to kiss him after the stunt he had pulled. But his heart and soul disagreed, so he opened his mouth to invite his brother to deepen the kiss. When Dean finally did Sam’s whole body reacted instantly, pulsating almost painfully. Feeling Dean’s tongue inside his mouth was everything he ever dreamt of, so in the beginning, it was all too much. He couldn’t move, he felt paralyzed with his heart trying to break his rib cage apart. The paralyzation broke when he felt Dean retract, all of a sudden desperation mixed with pure lust took over and he was able to kiss him back. 

Now that Dean had broken the kiss he felt confused, empty and alone. Would his brother leave again because of this kiss? Sam worried his lips and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Tears welled up in his eyes, so he looked down to hide them from his brother who stared intently at him. 

”Baby, I am so sorry. I know this must be confusing. I shouldn’t have done this without explaining what has happened these couple of days,” Dean sighed and dragged his hand through his short, cropped hair.

Dean’s heart broke at the look on Sam’s face. He looked forlorn and afraid, a look he had hoped he would never see in those hazel eyes. Dean knew that now was not the time, he needed to explain things but the longing to show Sam how much he loved him was greater so he leaned forward again, capturing Sam’s quivering lips. This time Sam tasted salty from the tears now freely streaming down his face. Dean tried to catch them with the pad of his thumb but he couldn’t stop them from coming. 

”I remember what I have done,” Sam whispered, his voice colored by guilt. 

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, fighting off the memory of his bloody, lifeless brother. 

”I am so sorry, this is all my fault. Please, I want to explain why I left. I know it's unforgivable but I need you to know,” Dean pleaded, afraid Sam would not give him the chance to explain. But Sam only nodded and despite the confusion still apparent in his eyes he didn’t move away and let Dean caress the soft skin underneath his eyes. 

So Dean took the chance he was offered and explained everything, starting right at the beginning, those desperate first days when he had realized what his feelings were. In a low voice, he told Sam about the shame and disgust that he had carried around with him and the wall of denial he had tried to maintain at all costs. Dean told Sam about the naked fear of endangering him through his sinful thoughts and desperation he had felt that no matter how hard he tried those feelings never went away. He spoke about a love so deep and intense, it sometimes took his breath away just looking at Sam. While he explained, Dean's hands never left Sam, afraid that the other would not want to be touched by him anymore after his confession. 

”I know that I have been a total asshole, an idiot, and what I did is unforgivable. I will never forgive myself for leaving you or treating you the way I did. That’s why I won’t ask for your forgiveness because I do not deserve it. But I want to ask you to give me a chance to show you how much I love you and that I will never leave you again,” Dean brushed a stray tear from his lashes and looked at Sam who had kept his eyes closed during Dean’s confession. 

Sam’s face didn’t give Dean any clue as to what he was thinking. Silence settled between them, Dean had said everything there was to say and now it was up to Sam to grant or deny him the opportunity to make up for his mistakes. 

Sam opened his eyes and untangled himself from his brother. He didn’t want to meet the other’s eyes so he kept his head down and let his hair fall into his face. His brother’s explanation was a lot to digest. For so long he had thought he was the only one who felt the way he did. Learning that his brother did too should make him feel ecstatic. But so much had happened that the revelation was tainted by regret, pain, and mistrust. He had no idea what to say to his brother because the truth was he didn’t even trust him to stay until afternoon. The feeling inside his chest told him that he should be prepared, his brother could walk out any minute. And then what? He could not let himself get caught in the hopefulness of his brother’s confession or the sweetness of his words. 

”I can’t….I just can’t talk about this right now,” Sam said and turned around to go to the bathroom. He set his feet down onto the stained carpet and flinched in distaste at the thought how all these stains came about. Some looked suspiciously like blood, maybe even his own. The sudden movement made him feel dizzy and his body trembled as if he had been out running for an hour. 

”Sam, please be careful,” Dean said warningly and cursed when Sam tried to stand up. The dizziness got worse and Sam felt the world swaying, getting black around the edges. Just before he toppled over two strong arms held him tightly. Getting away from the close proximity to his brother had been all he wanted but now relief flooded him and his muscle memory let him melt into the embrace. 

”Just tell me if you need to go to the bathroom. You are still weak, I will help you, ok?” Dean murmured into sweat-soaked locks. Sam didn’t want to accept Dean’s help, but he didn’t feel like he had any other options right now. His bladder made itself known and he sighed in resignation. 

Together with Dean, it took him almost 5 minutes to walk the few steps to the bathroom. By the time they arrived his back was covered in sweat and he had a faint ringing in his ears. Sam panted as he approached the toilet with Dean still holding most of his weight. 

”Careful, careful, careful,” Dean whispered as he helped Sam lower himself onto the toilet seat. Sam looked like he just had run a marathon and hunched immediately. 

Dean crouched down in front of Sam but his brother looked at him as if he had lost his mind. 

”Some privacy, please!” Sam demanded, looking a bit outraged at Dean who still didn’t move. 

”You got it from here? You still need to take those off,” Dean pointed to Sam’s blue boxers.

Sam flushed bright red in an instant, nodding furiously. 

”Go away, Dean,” he said between gritted teeth, his eyes darkened by anger and helplessness. 

”I’m just going to turn around and wait by the door, in case you need my help after all,” Dean said casually and strolled over to the door. 

Sam couldn’t believe his brother. He felt outraged, annoyed, and embarrassed. Of course, he would be able to drag down his own damn underwear. He hated when Dean became a mother hen. A couple of minutes later Sam groaned in frustration. In order to get his underwear down, he needed to lift himself up from the toilet seat a couple of inches. But every time he tried it felt like he was trapped in a tiny boat in a violent ocean. 

After a while Dean turned around and approached him again, his expression gentle and loving. He crouched down in front of Sam again and took his hands. 

”Please, let me help you,” Dean whispered and squeezed Sam’s hands. His fingertips caressed the soft skin on Sam’s wrist until the other nodded, albeit apprehensively. 

”I am just going to get you out of that underwear, then I’ll be out in a second, giving you your privacy. I promise,” he murmured while standing up to put his arms around Sam. 

Sam still didn’t meet Dean's eyes so Dean proceeded to cautiously lift him upwards a couple of inches, only enough so that he could hook the thumbs of his other hand into the elastic waistband of Sam’s underwear. With a swift motion, he dragged the boxers down so that they landed on the floor. He lowered Sam’s body slowly onto the toilet seat but couldn’t help to peek a second at Sam’s crotch. A tangled mess of blond, wiry hair and slightly red skin lit his nerves on fire. He should let go of Sam but he held him still tightly, eyes fixated on brother’s private parts. Dean’s mouth was dry and he swallowed repeatedly when he realized that Sam’s face and neck had turned shades of red. Dean cleared his throat and backed away slowly, rubbing his temples. He had no idea what he was even doing.

”Just call my name if you need any more help,” Dean whispered in a broken voice. God, how he hated himself. Sam had not even reacted to his confession, leaving him with the feeling that his brother might not love him that way anymore, and who could blame him. But instead of trying to regain his brother’s trust to at least salvage the remnants of their relationship he was lusting after him while he still was too injured to take care of himself. 

At first, he didn’t get an answer but when he reached the door he heard a tiny whisper.

”I just might,” Sam said, waiting for his brother to close the door behind him. Relieving his bladder had gotten a bit more complicated than anticipated, given that his brother's hot stare had woken up a desire deep within. So Sam tried to concentrate on the task at hand but his mind provided him with ideas on how his brother could help him out and how exactly that would make him feel.

Getting back to bed was kind of awkward, both pretending they didn’t notice each other's erections. When Sam finally buried his face in his pillow he couldn’t help but giggle. Despite the seriousness of their situation, it was almost funny. 

”Hey, what’s so funny?” Dean asked with an eyebrow raised. 

”Nothing,” Sam replied but couldn’t fight off the goofy grin spreading across his face. Dean just shook his head and rolled his eyes, but even he couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

Later that day, Castiel arrived to check on Sam. He found the brother’s watching a tv show, the atmosphere seemed tense. As soon as Cass arrived Dean took the chance to step out to buy some dinner. It had already gotten dark outside and the air was crisp. He inhaled greedily, happy to escape the stuffy room. Sam had gotten more irritated as the hours went by. He seemed to watch Dean from the corners of his eyes as if he expected him to leave any minute. Even though Dean understood why Sam was acting like that it still hurt his feelings. It became apparent how little Sam trusted him and that his words and promises didn’t mean anything to his hurt brother. 

Dean longed to touch and kiss Sam but his brother had reacted strangely after the trip to the bathroom. Dean suspected that Sam had no idea what he wanted because he sometimes almost forced physical contact just to react like he got burned as soon as Dean initiated a hug. Sam seemed on edge, which drove Dean crazy. He still refused to talk about Dean’s confession or about his feelings. 

The trip to a nearby diner offered Dean precious alone time to sort out his thoughts and feelings. He realized that he was expecting way too much of his brother. Sam was in a fragile state of mind and Dean must be patient and give them time to heal. 

Dean returned with a more hopeful feeling. He opened the door with one hand, balancing a paper bag with sandwiches in the other. He almost dropped it when his eyes fell onto Sam and Cass, holding each other in a loving embrace. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He could not believe it, the pain burned like acid through his soul. All day he had barely been allowed to touch Sam but Cass was getting a tight, full body embrace. 

”What the hell is going on?” He growled in a low voice. Both Sam and Cass let go of each other and looked at him questioningly. 

”Nothing, I was thanking Cass for saving my life,” Sam explained and fired a bright, dimpled smile at the angel. 

”He healed me some more too, now I feel much better,” Sam reached out and touched Castiel's hand.

Jealousy darkened Dean’s thoughts. A part of him was aware that he acted ridiculous but the bigger part was focused on their hands touching. 

”Is that so? How come I step out for a minute and you can’t even keep your hands off my little brother?!” Dean raised his voice while approaching the angel. He disregarded the food on the small table without even looking.

”Dean,” the angel sounded like he thought Dean had lost his mind. 

”Are you fucking crazy?” Sam asked, both eyebrows raised in disbelief. The second Dean grabbed the angel by the trenchcoat Sam started yelling. 

”Let go of him, let go.” Sam reached out and yanked Dean back by the shoulder. It wasn’t often that Dean thought about how big his brother really was but in that instant he did. He tumbled backward in surprise, this morning Sam hadn’t even been able to go to the bathroom alone. 

Sam approached the angel to whisper something into his ear. Castiel shot Dean an angry glance but nodded and disappeared. 

”Dean, you are an asshole, you know that? You treat me like shit for months. FOR MONTHS,” Sam yelled, his voice breaking at the end. 

”Then you leave me. LEAVE ME. Do you have any idea how that felt? Do you?” Sam’s voice was a weird mixture of yelling and whispering, like a silent scream. He grabbed the front of Dean’s shirt and shook him a couple of times. 

”Sam, I am sorry, so sorry. Please,” Dean pleaded, covering Sam’s big hands with his own. 

”I love you, I love you so much, I won't leave you again,” Dean chanted, trying to erase the look of searing pain and anger in Sam’s eyes. He had seen the look before when Sam had been under the influence of demon blood. He knew that there was a part of Sam’s soul that was so hurt that it led him to behave like this. Dean knew that he played a big part in leading his brother down that dark path.

”Shut up, just shut up,” Sam spat, shoving Dean backward against the wall. Dean grimaced in pain and tried to get some distance between him and Sam by pushing at Sam’s chest. But Sam didn’t move and tightened his grip on Dean. 

”You have no right to act jealous. I can’t even trust you stay beyond the next hour. What if something happens that freaks you out? Then you will be off again, leaving me like a piece of trash!” Sam whispered angrily in Dean’s ear, pressing his whole body against him. The force knocked the breath from Dean’s lungs. He tried to keep calm, knowing that Sam needed him to be steady and reassuring. 

”Sam, no, I won't leave you ever again. I promise you, please give me the chance to prove that to you.” Dean pleaded with his brother but his words only seemed to agitate Sam more. So Dean tried to get through to his angry brother by putting a hand on his cheek. 

”I don’t believe a word you say, you are so full of shit,” Sam raised his voice again, penetrating Dean’s calm surface. 

”Cut it out, Sam, I am your big brother and you don’t talk to me like that,” Dean put every ounce of authority into his voice. He had tried to be patient but apparently Sam wanted to fight. Dean knew he had made many mistakes but he would not let Sam talk to him like that. He had raised him, after all, so he demanded some level of respect. 

”I will talk to you however I want, you can’t give me orders, dickhead,” Sam said with malice and something inside of Dean snapped. He kicked his brother’s legs causing Sam to yelp in surprise before they tumbled over, Sam dragging Dean with him to the floor. Dean landed painfully on top of Sam who cursed and tried to hit Dean to get rid of him. Dean, however, had despite his smaller size always been the better fighter, so he ducked from his brothers flailing arms easily. 

”Cut it out Sam, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” Dean used his whole body as leverage to keep his brother pinned underneath him. 

”Let go of me, let go,” Sam screeched, his voice sounding strangled from the exertion. 

”Is that what you want? Is it? Me letting you go?” Dean growled in Sam’s ear, trying to sound threatening but due to being out of breath his voice sounded husky, almost sultry. 

Dean could see Sam swallow visibly and stop the flailing. For a moment he laid completely still, his eyes wide. Dean felt Sam’s heartbeat against his chest, irregular and fast. The look in Sam’s eyes changed, the rage was replaced by something else that seemed just as intense. Dean had never seen Sam like that and it took him a couple of seconds to decipher the look. It was pure, desperate lust. The thought went straight to Dean’s cock, forming a painful erection faster than it should even be possible. Then Sam moved again all of a sudden, but this time he circled his arms around Dean and buried his nose at Dean's neck. 

”I need to feel you, Dean, please. Oh God, please,” Sam stuttered. There was no doubt what Sam meant with their crotches snugly pressed against each other.   
There were so many things to consider, so much they hadn’t talked about so Dean needed to stop this now. 

”Let’s go to bed,” he whispered instead, ignoring his logic and trusting his heart.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean dragged Sam to his feet in one swift motion. Sam held onto Deans hand too tight and his heart thundered in his chest; it felt like it was about to break his rib cage and leap out of his body. Sam longed to feel his brother, just like he had said, but now he remembered that he didn’t know the first thing about being intimate with another man. His sexual experience was more limited than most would believe due to his feelings for Dean. He had never been able to bring himself to act on any attraction he might have felt towards strange men in bars. It had always been easier with women even though his heart had never been in it with them either.

When they reached the bed Dean turned around and looked at Sam in silence for a while. Sam felt the other’s eyes roam his body before connecting their gazes. The determination that had been edged into Dean’s features was replaced by something gentle and soft. Dean placed both his hands around Sam‘s face and connected their lips tenderly before leaning back again. 

“Lay down, Sammy,“ Dean whispered hoarsely, sending shivers of anticipation and anxiety down Sam‘s back. Sam licked his lips and nodded; his throat felt dry and his hands shook as he grabbed the hem of his shirt. 

Dean shed his own shirt in record time and Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away from lean muscles and soft, blond hair dusting Dean’s skin. It seemed like it took hours to get out of his own shirt. Sam looked down at his body, self-conscious about every imperfection. But he snapped out of his thoughts when Dean almost pounced on him, crashing their mouths together desperately. This time there was nothing soft in his kiss, instead Dean explored his mouth hungrily. Sam gasped when Dean’s fingertips brushed over his hardening nipple before he continued downwards, tenderly exploring Sam’s naked chest. The touch was light, almost cautious. 

Before Sam got used to the feeling Dean broke the kiss to place his mouth on Sam‘s nipple. The sensation was surprisingly strong and sent waves of arousal through his body. Nibbling teeth and a playful tongue left Sam breathless. 

Sam felt utterly at the mercy of his brother who seemed to know exactly what he was doing. At the moment, Sam wasn’t capable of doing anything but closing his eyes to cherish Dean’s warm mouth and soft fingertips. Goosebumps erupted all over his body when Dean licked from his nipple down to his navel to dip his tongue in. Sam drew in a sharp breath and tried not to lose his bearings when Dean cupped his growing erection with one hand. Sam bit his lips in an effort to stop the needy moan that was forcing its way from somewhere deep inside. The nervousness mingled with lust and the need to be close to the person he had almost lost. The person he would die for. Sam had always loved Dean with desperate intensity, but he had thought that the disappointment he felt about Dean’s actions would somehow dim these feelings. He just learned that they burned as bright and all-consuming as ever. 

He whined when Dean stopped which earned him a knowing smirk from his brother. Before he could say anything Dean pushed gently at his chest causing Sam to take a few steps back until he felt the bed against his legs. 

Sam bit his lips and let himself fall backwards. The old bed springs groaned and he sank into the mattress. Dean smiled down at him before putting a knee between Sam‘s legs, causing him to open his legs further to accommodate his brother. Dean crawled closer, occupying the space between Sam‘s legs. Sam‘s eyes widened when Dean leaned down, putting his hands on each side of Sam‘s head. Sam felt Dean’s erection pressing down onto his own and he couldn’t help but moan at the friction the contact provided. 

“You feel so good, baby boy,“ Dean whispered into Sam‘s ear and sucked Sam‘s earlobe into his mouth. 

For a moment, Sam was paralyzed by the sensations and feelings that so violently shook his body and soul. Dean‘s calloused hands on his naked skin almost drove him crazy. His brother alternated between soft touches and eager, deep kisses. Sam wanted to touch his brother so desperately but it took him a while before he placed a hand on Dean‘s back. He slowly caressed the soft skin and kneaded defined muscles underneath. Dean had always been pretty, a joy to look at but Sam learned that touching him was so much more. Sam enjoyed watching Dean‘s reaction to his curious fingertips. The moment Sam worked up the courage to grab Dean‘s ass Dean growled lowly and resumed grinding against Sam‘s crotch. 

Dean looked down at his little brother who was seemingly lost in his thoughts and feelings. His eyes were closed, long lashes resting on soft skin. Sam‘s lips were parted and his breath came in short, fast pants. His lips glistened invitingly, Dean had to lean down for another passionate kiss. Sam had seemed tense and nervous so Dean proceeded with caution even if it became increasingly difficult as he practically humped his brother. His erection strained in the confinement of his jeans and he wanted nothing more than to finally touch Sam. 

Dean opened the button of Sam‘s pants while he observed his brother’s reaction. Sam didn’t move or give any indication that he felt uncomfortable so Dean left the space between Sam‘s legs to free Sam from the rest of his clothes. Sam bit his lips in the most adorable way and blushed in shades of crimson when his cock was finally not confined by his underwear any longer. 

Dean got the feeling that Sam was either very shy when it came to sex or he was simply inexperienced. It was a new experience for Dean being with someone that timid and passive. The weird thing was that this somehow turned him on even more. Given the fact that Dean didn’t know what prompted Sam to act like this he fought the desire to attack Sam‘s erection with his mouth. Instead he stood up to get rid of his own clothes. Sam watched him from half-lidded eyes, licking his lips repeatedly. 

Dean sighed when he finally was naked and took a moment to look at his brother. Sam was truly a sight to behold, pink perky nipples, hair forming a delicious path from his navel to his crotch. Years of hunting had left Sam‘s torso covered in scars but had also given him defined abs. The look of abandon and lust in Sam‘s eyes made Dean impossibly harder. At last, Dean drank in the sight he had dreamt of for so long. The reality was so much more arousing than his imagination. Sam‘s penis was thick with prominent veins, the head red, and precum had already gathered in creamy droplets. 

Dean climbed the bed again and let himself fall next to Sam this time. He hugged Sam immediately who melted into Dean’s strong embrace. Their mouths found each other again and Dean tried to put as much love as he could into their kiss. He smiled when they came up for air, tenderly pushing a strand of Sam’s hair out of his face. 

“You are so beautiful, baby boy. Please, let me touch you,“ Dean whispered, not able to keep the desperate need and passion from his voice. 

Sam nodded slightly, his eyes wide. He seemed a bit overwhelmed so Dean put small butterfly kisses on Sam’s collarbone. It took awhile but eventually the tension left Sam’s body. Dean seized the opportunity and wrapped his hand around Sam‘s cock. Sam felt wonderful in his hand, hard and pulsating. Dean’s own cock throbbed despite the fact that he hadn’t been touched yet. 

“Dean...,“ Sam murmured in a broken voice. It felt like he was about to break into a thousand tiny pieces, the sensation of Dean’s hand moving up and down his erection was incredible, gentle, and firm at the same time. He, of course, had experience with getting a hand job but feeling a man’s big, calloused hands made all the difference. Dean moved his hand faster than Sam was used to, more like his own pace when he took care of business and yet different. It felt like hot lava was running through his body instead of blood. He had a hard time controlling his breath and the sounds that seemed to originate somewhere deep within. The sensation was so powerful it almost hurt, the arousal was desperate and intense. Feelings that he had fought against all his life crashed over him like a tidal wave, almost drowning him in desire. 

Sam tenderly placed a hand on Dean's stomach and caressed the soft skin underneath his navel. He tried to work up the courage to let his hand glide lower. Before he could make up his mind Dean grabbed his hand and placed it on his erection. 

”Come on, Sammy. It’s ok, I promise. Touch me,” Dean said, his eyes glistening feverishly. Sam had to bite his lips until he drew blood in order to keep himself from giving into his pending orgasm. While Dean gathered the liquid emerging from Sam’s cock with soft fingertips Sam finally wrapped his own hand around Dean’s erect penis. 

Sam explored Dean’s cock eagerly, he loved the velvety skin at the head and the way Dean’s cock would pulsate when he moved his hand, covering his fingers in warm liquid. Sam had only ever touched his own semen and was surprised how this evidence of Dean’s lust was arousing. He wanted to make Dean feel good, hear him lost in pleasure moaning his name. Sam suspected that his own effort in giving pleasure was clumsy but he tried his best to do all the things he liked when he jerked off. 

Dean however didn't seem bothered by his lack of skills, he sighed in pleasure and rocked his hips, trying to increase the friction where he needed it the most. Sam knew that his gentle touches were torturous but he wanted to enjoy the sensation of touching Dean as long and thorough as possible. He was momentarily distracted from his own explorations when Dean suddenly removed his hand from his penis to let his fingertips glide down over his balls and further towards his buttocks. Sam draw in a harsh breath when Dean dipped one finger into the cleft between his cheeks. Dean caressed the area around his hole tenderly and Sam couldn’t help but shiver at the intimate touch. 

All of a sudden all his senses were trained on curious fingers invading his most private part. Dean pressed the pad of his fingers against the rim of his hole, causing Sam’s body to spasm. He had experimented and touched himself there once in a while but never had the courage to actually go through with fingering himself. Now he almost regretted it because he had no idea what to expect. Dean increased the pressure slightly causing Sam to bury his head against Dean’s shoulder. 

He realized that the angle they were in wasn’t fortunate so he let go of Deans penis to move a couple of inches upwards. Despite being nervous there was a part that wanted Dean to continue. It was that part that led him to open his legs further, angling his butt towards Dean. 

”Oh yeah, baby, that's good. Open your legs for me,” Dean praised, pressing his fingertip against Sam’s hole until it slipped past the tight rim. 

Sam sounded like he was running a marathon, his breath ragged. Dean focused on Sam’s breathing and moved the tip of his finger carefully. Sam was impossibly tight and warm, his muscles clenched around Dean’s finger. The thought of feeling Sam around his cock had Dean almost lose his patience. Dean tried to push his finger deeper which earned him a whimper from Sam. This time he sounded not aroused but uncomfortable. 

”Baby boy, I don’t want to hurt you. Have you done this before?” Dean asked and placed one hand on Sam’s chest. His brother grabbed it immediately, interlacing their fingers. Dean tried to establish eye contact but Sam looked down on their hands. Dean leaned down and placed a loving kiss on Sam’s sweaty forehead. 

After a while Sam shook his head. ”No,” he admitted, his voice almost inaudible. His cheeks had become pink. 

Dean frowned, thinking about the possibilities. Having sex without lube was at best uncomfortable even for experienced lovers. With Sam being a virgin at least when it came to anal sex there was no way they would be able to get there no matter how much they longed for it. Dean touched Sam’s chin to make his brother look at him. When their eyes finally met Dean smiled reassuringly and caressed Sam’s lips with his fingers. 

Dean retracted his fingers from Sam’s hole causing Sam to jerk a little. 

”I am so sorry,” Sam stammered wide-eyed. 

As soon as he admitted to never have been intimate with a man Dean's whole body language changed. His sweet expression was replaced by a frown. He had removed his finger and looked at Sam like he was feeling sorry for him. Sam had a lump in his throat, realizing that his experienced brother for sure had no desire to coach a virgin into having sex. Sam couldn’t help but feel like he once again proved to be a disappointment. It felt like groundhog day, he just couldn’t do anything right. He just wanted to make Dean happy but he was just not enough. Maybe he would never be. How long until Dean figured that out? Sam tried to fight the waves of panic that threatened to drown him. His pulse quickened and his hands started to tremble. 

”Sammy? Hey, Earth to Sammy. What's going on?” Dean sounded concerned and Sam yearned to hug his brother and tell him how he felt. But what if he would leave again? He couldn’t risk that. 

Sam tried to blink the tears away that gathered in his eyes, he couldn’t help but sniffle. His thoughts were caught in a dark loop and he didn’t dare to look at his brother or say anything. Right when Sam was about to convince himself that Dean was seconds away from leaving him Dean embraced him, holding Sam tight against his chest. Dean ran his hands over Sam’s back and pressed his mouth against Sam’s ear. The caress of Dean’s breath on Sam’s ear made him shiver. 

”Sammy, I love you. I have no idea what you are thinking right now but I want you to know that you are everything I have ever wanted. Don’t be embarrassed by your lack of experience, you have no idea how much the idea of being your first turns me on. You are perfect.” Dean paused and kissed Sam’s cheek. 

”But why… did you...stop?” Sam forced the words around the lump in his throat. 

”Oh baby, I just didn’t want to hurt you. Without lube we can’t have intercourse. But we CAN do so many other things. I still intent on making you feel good,” Dean explained, caressing Sam’s chest with loving hands. 

When Dean’s hands reached Sam’s cock he was glad that Sam was, despite his panicky, thoughts still hard. Dean was relieved that he had spotted the change in Sam’s mood directly. He suspected that his brother’s thoughts had turned dark when they talked about his sexual experience. It reminded him how fragile his brother was and that his mental health was far from good. Castiel had healed the wounds on Sam’s body but Sam’s mind was still wounded. Despite his own body almost hurting with arousal, Dean was almost relieved that they couldn’t go further than this. He suspected that Sam wasn’t ready, anal sex needed copious amounts of trust and Sam looked like he thought Dean would leave him again any minute. 

Sam didn’t respond to his words but he looked not as panicked as he had only moments ago. 

”I want you to relax, Sammy. Lay down and let me show you how much I love you. I am not going to leave you again, ever. I promise. I know you don’t trust my words right now but I’m gonna kiss you until you do.” 

Sam nodded and laid back, his head resting on a pillow. Dean took advantage of having Sam’s body on full display. He planned on kissing every part of it.

While Dean’s tongue and lips wandered over soft skin he tried to mark his favorite spots by sucking the sensitive skin until it turned blue. He loved the delicious spot right above Sam’s hipbone, the dark area around Sam’s nipples and the velvety skin on the inside of Sam's thigh. 

He found out that his brother was sensitive to touch almost all over his body. When he finally took Sam’s leaking cock into his mouth his brother held on for dear life on the bed sheets, sweaty and moaning. It didn’t take long for Dean to realize that Sam wouldn't be able to last much longer; his penis throbbed on Dean’s tongue. 

Dean released his brother’s cock with a wet pop and managed to wrap his hand around it and move it a couple of times before Sam cried out and spilled his seed all over Dean's hand. Dean smirked satisfied, feeling good about himself. Even though they couldn't have sex he still managed to make Sammy feel good. Which only left the problem between his legs that became increasingly painful. 

Sam zoned out in pure bliss after his orgasm. Dean’s loving and tender treatment had reassured him and after a while he was able to relax and simply enjoy Deans mouth on his body. His orgasm had hit hard, sweeping every logical thought away. Minutes passed until he realized that Dean had resumed the position next to him. He was embracing Sam and he felt Dean’s cock against his hip. For a moment, Sam had forgotten that Dean had been just as aroused as him without getting any relief from this tension. 

”This was incredible,” Sam whispered and placed a peck on Dean’s now red and swollen lips. Dean nodded and smiled lazily. 

”Now it's my turn,” Sam stated firmly and let himself glide down Dean's body until he could easily reach Dean’s penis with his hands. He didn’t dare to give Dean a blow job but he wanted him to get off nevertheless. 

In the beginning, he concentrated on the movements of his hands and how Dean felt. After a while he couldn’t fight the desire to taste his brother. So he leaned down and slowly licked over the sensitive cockhead. It felt velvety and warm on his tongue, tasted salty and a little bitter. Sam closed his eyes, overwhelmed by how much he liked it. He had never really put much thought into how it would feel like to give a man head and taste cum but it stirred all kinds of feelings. He was still exhausted from his own orgasm but there was heat again coiling low in his belly. 

Dean was quiet and showed through the movements body what he appreciated. Sam focused mainly on massaging Dean’s cock but nibbled and licked along the shaft as well. When he got the hang of it he speeded his movements up, made them harder. The sharp intake of breath and low growl from his brother was his reward. Precum flowed from the slit of Dean’s cock and Sam tried to gather it with his tongue. He surprised himself with how much he wanted this, almost needed to taste and feel. Dean cursed under his breath the moment Sam licked and moved his hands at the same time. 

”Holy shit, Sammy, gonna cum,” Dean whispered hoarsely. 

Instead of moving his face away Sam stayed put until thick ropes of creamy cum shot from his brother’s cock. Without thinking he dove down, opening his mouth wide to get a taste of the real thing. 

For blissful seconds, Dean groaned while Sam tasted the evidence of their love. He felt closer to Dean than he had in a long while, the moment was intimate and loving. Sam felt a new kind of devotion towards his brother who had grabbed the back of his head to hold him in place. Sam didn’t mind it one bit and enjoyed licking and sucking on Deans shaft until there was not a droplet left. 

”Mhmm, such a good boy,” Dean praised, sending electric arousal through Sam’s body. He definitely wanted to be a good boy for Dean.


End file.
